A dusk of fading light.
A flutter and flurry of wings.
A chorus of crows calling.
A hundred black shiny things.
Arranged in a circle.
Arranged in a ring.
Arranged around a solitary crow.
Arranged to hear him sing.
A dusk of fading light.
A flutter and flurry of wings.
A chorus of crows calling.
A hundred black shiny things.
No longer in a circle.
No longer in a ring.
No longer around a solitary crow.
No longer will he sing.
Mar 7, 2011
Mar 7, 2011 at 3:53 AM UTC
A dusk of fading light.
A flutter and flurry of wings.
A chorus of crows calling.
A hundred black shiny things.
Arranged in a circle.
Arranged in a ring.
Arranged around a solitary crow.
Arranged to hear him sing.
A dusk of fading light.
A flutter and flurry of wings.
A chorus of crows calling.
A hundred black shiny things.
No longer in a circle.
No longer in a ring.
No longer around a solitary crow.
No longer will he sing.