Raven

Sitting near the gate,

Watching closely 

The road is 

Wild and winding

And there are weeds 

In the crevices.

The wind caries

A cruel chill

And the air is old

And there, 

Sitting at the 

Edge of the world

Is a raven

Standing guard.

Silent and stony

Feathered and lonely

The raven has been 

Waiting since

Before it knew what to 

Watch for.

In the misty morning

It’s eyes

See nothing

But a forgotten path

And weeds in the cracks.