Mark Williams – Raven
Raven
was on my street
trying to mix in
with the other birds
It didn’t work
He stood out
Like a sore wing
Laying low
He was on the lam
“I’d rather be
on the lamb!” he cackled
(Especially if the lamb was dead)
He made bad jokes
like that
Is that why
they’re after you? I asked
The humor thing?
No, it’s that I make them uncomfortable
While they’re destroying things
I feed off carcasses
But so do they
Yet somehow think they’re better than me
We all have dark feathers
When it comes to bedcheck time
You have to laugh about it
or caw
But don’t caw me,
Raven said
I’ll caw…
Don’t, I asked
Well hell
Raven spat
Don’t tell me you’ve all gone
And lost your funnybones
On the very eve
of reckoning?
Could be
the last bones
you got left
He was alone then
undisguised
the other birds
had cleared away,
uneasy as they were
He was illuminated
a shiny black
under the streetlamp
That light he said
is flickering
everything is still
half-shadow
That made it hard
to find the feather on the road later
after he’d departed
silky and murky
I ran my finger on it
once or twice
and it felt
serious
to the touch
Date: April 8, 2013
Categories: Mark Williams