Monday, 15 October 2012

The Crow

The Crow

Each morning I watch the crow sit upon the old chimney, the end of a line, that peeks above the shale roofed houses, to watch the sun rise, in silence and reverence. We watch it together, and he, who barely notices me anymore, makes not a sound, bowing his midnight crown upon the first rays of dawn. Then turns his black pearls to gaze into my soul, knowing we shall meet once more, tomorrow, or on some dim lit twilight shore.

 © Richard Michael Parker 2012

Artwork: Lindsey Kustusch

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