Lull
Tuesday, October 13th, 2009by Tyler Chadwick
The crow lays roadside,
fully dead, its swollen body
trimmed with grass. Its head,
cropped with beads of dew,
cocks awkwardly to one side,
the top eye muting the sky
in a flat, milky gaze, beak
cracked in perpetual “caw,”
though no sound escapes
save the rasp of leaves
tripped by the wind
through this wooded suburban lull.
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Originally published in Black Rock & Sage [...]