Ode to the Dusty Crow
That dusty desert rumbling crow
Bright black light in the afterglow
Nothing is all that and more
My soul is naught but mold and gore.
That dusty desert rumbling crow
Circles me in the sun’s thick glow
I can taste my blood, but I need more
Elastic snapping crows pick gore.
That dusty desert rumbling crow
His red eyes from the sand do glow.
I crawl to my feet…never-more
The deadly draft hath strewn my gore.
Bright black light in the afterglow
Nothing is all that and more
My soul is naught but mold and gore.
That dusty desert rumbling crow
Circles me in the sun’s thick glow
I can taste my blood, but I need more
Elastic snapping crows pick gore.
That dusty desert rumbling crow
His red eyes from the sand do glow.
I crawl to my feet…never-more
The deadly draft hath strewn my gore.
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A single crow symbolizes bad luck, and the intermediary stages between life and death. At first inspection, this poem is a literary exercise with the use of Crow, Glow, More, and Gore as the endings of each sentence, and other repititions. But it is also a story of a dark journey.
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Ode to the Dusty Crow
PoetPatrick O'Neill
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