A LITTLE MURDERA Poem by VolEight crows sorted themselves from the background, settled on the wires and naked branches to sing a November song, CAW! Abrupt Like this chill gust of wind mustered from behind the hill. my hand reaches for my collar CAW! A brown leaf skirls sideways down the lawn to snag on a nameless bush. CAW! CAW! The little murder has imposed on my moment here when I was thinking of other things: bread milk, impending winter. This inconvenient trip to town lnterrupted by my fascination for these harbingers dressed in black who look down, waiting, waiting CAW! Watching me decide to play their game. The sentinel in the top of that isolate ole persimmon rattles his feathers, adjusts his stance disinterested as I should be in my quiet evening focused now on things beyond the plans I’ve made. CAW! A lift of wings, a fumbling for keys. Gravel crunches on my way to the car; the door chunks heavy in the silence while I sit safe for a moment before I pull into the night. © 2025 VolFeatured Review
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Added on May 3, 2025Last Updated on May 4, 2025 |

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