crows feeding loudly in maiden hay field
in the noon sun
such a dark sound these creatures
such a ancient place they call to in the heart
'no good has ever come from this'
he recites to his unhearing heart
as he moves into the field
seeking the towering oak tree in the far corner
along the broken teeth of the field-stone wall
seeking the solace of the cool shade
and this feast of crows he must scatter
he must reap now that the devil has sown
must gather unto god
what man cast down in this dark place
this noon day sun of perils
this godless place with its ****** of crows
he shouts a prayer as he treads near the tree
to scatter these spawn of darkness
they take to wing
there in the shadows he finds the mans corpse
the plague had claimed him
madness of its fever had lead him here
so here he will be buried
by the village priest
taking up the shovel he digs a rough narrow hole
and covers the corpse
carrying the shovel and the plague back to his village
so it came to this quiet european town
so the black death spreads
so the plague destroyed europe