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10k views, 2x BestPoetryCollection. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind |
Neighborhood Murders If you asked me, crows have always been planning to murder. Have you listened how aggressive they beak-clap-caw communiqués? Not a hush-tone from limb of loft-leaf space. Deployed air crafts, they float, land, signal intent, calling out coordinate positions. Am I the only one from vantage of a kitchen window perch that suspects they’re plotting something? Optimized, cranial beacons eye-hunt the weakest of neighborhood denizen. Does a ▼ It’s not just grain; murders committed need protein, half a winter starved. Foul, feathered, wolf pack, they waddle, as if whistling, wings behind back with discerning wonderment — shoulder, skip, hop-step, wary of anyone and the whereabout. Quick-ducking under blossomed crab, night spawns in shifting shade. One lingers alongside parked vehicles — eyeing the street, gives an all clear, ready to advance, when I swing the door wide, laughing, witness the slick lot, chest flop two-claw pop back up, swoop-soar, hollering in flight. Back in flock of pine bow row, green-needled, their area masts mask — yet, quiet nevermore, the sense: they spy again where the next murder shall be. 5.29.24 37 lines (without dropnote) for Shadows and Light entry this round 47 lines total I had fun writing this, so much reminding of my mom and how she could animate stories in spoken word…her nightly performances at bedside. I am still in awe of those storybook treasures. |