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Aug 2020
Caw caw caw cries a black bird in a tree. From a like high up in a weathered lifeless oak, the bird stares at me. A cold wind blows by and a chill runs down my spine. Caw caw cries the black bird as it takes flight. Down the bird descends beneath dark and dreary skies, landing on a solitary Grey rock caw caw caw it calls to me. I stop and stare into the dark messengers eyes. Now I understand the Ravens purpose and why the Ravens cries. Come come come is what it says to those who are about to die.
James M Vines
Written by
James M Vines  50/M/Atlanta Georgia
(50/M/Atlanta Georgia)   
186
 
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