Shake no Spears

I am Crow:

Image result for crow

Blood eater,



Shake no puny spears

In my direction, for

Your mountains of death

Are no barrier

To my progresses …

and next time you

Come across my silhouette,

Hear my lid-of-coffin voice –

In sunlight or darkness,

In hours of labour,

Love, thought or rest–

Take heed;

It is no accident

That you are sometimes

Brushed by my feather-light shadow:

Think on, mortal,

Of the things you must

And the things you mustn’t.

2 thoughts on “Shake no Spears

  1. I’m going to take another look at that murder of crows roosting in my neighbor’s Sequoia tree.

    • beeseeker says:

      Smiling here at the thought: there was just one day where whatever I was doing, wherever I was a crow (sometimes a jackdaw but poetic licence right?) was nearby: busy or watching.

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