Poem of the Day

Undercover Crow -Sage

I sit in a dim black bench

Outside prison walls

Sharing my last piece of bread

With a flock of pigeons

Fighting for crumbs.

All these pigeons look identical,

Grey feathers and bright red toes,

All except one, a pigeon with a zipper on its back.

He looks at me; his eyes resembles that of a vulture,

Such a cold stare.

His head turns around

And with his beak he unzips himself,

Ever so slowly dark wing comes out.

He flaps his wings twice and reveals his face.

A black crow emerges

Holding a shiny object

Between his bright grey toes.

 In shock I say "Hey what are you holding?"

The crow grins

And says "If you wish to find out then follow me."

He plunges into the sky

Within seconds his flock appears,

Bright sun covered in darkness.

I follow the trail of ashy black feathers.

The trail ends at a wheat field

 On my last breath I say "Why here?"

From far away the wheat field

Looks like a mountain of gold coins

The mountains reflect this painted sky,

Pitch black with blue splatters

You could see how light struggled

To show an appearance

The crops wave back and forth

As if they were trying to say goodbye.

The flock flies towards the sky

And joins the shiny blue spots.

It's the undercover crow

Who stands in front of me and says "Are you ready?"

I swallow my throat "Ready for what?"

"Oh you will see" whispers the crow.

We take a road where the brown soil

And the green grass, live side by side.

He stops, the cold air suddenly

Rushes through my body.

The crow grins and looks at me,

Expands his wings, and grows

The feathers turn into silk

Black cloth covers his body.

He is holding a long black stick,

With a razor sharp blade,

The blade curled perfectly for ending lives.

He looks at me with his vulture eyes

"This is your final resting place"…

Inspired by: Wheat field with crows painting by Vincent Van Gogh