Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2023
the crow is dead and its eyes were open
and it had fallen off a branch, maybe
and it could have been sleeping,
body slumped in the dewy boulevard grass this morning,
but its eyes were open
and crows don't sleep that way.

I was surprised because death hides in all places,
except a ******.
Grace
Written by
Grace  F/Voie Des Papillons
(F/Voie Des Papillons)   
55
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems