ravens and black birds all along the precipice
awaiting the dive the encore the serenade,
crows in a row along the wire,
above the vultures circle round
the sky full of death
the ground scoured until
the black cloud lifted
above  my head
the darkness went away in wings of
light then
when the sun rose all the sudden
and if I didn't
some one else would be writing
a tome about the black winged
maybe my good friend
Jim
or Susan might could
or might they may have just gone on