Sunday, November 28, 2010


Any local knows
the growing darkness brings
the coming of the crows,

they swirl like ebon snows
while raucous cawing rings;
any local knows

when creeping coldness slows
the blood, they’ll hear those wings.
The coming of the crows

and their gloomy innuendoes
is just one of those things
any local knows,

as certain as the wind that blows
with biting force that stings,
the coming of the crows

means months of frozen woes
till brilliant flora springs.
Any local knows
the coming of the crows.


Paul Andrew Russell said...

Oh yes, the crow, black harbinger of all that is dark and depressing.

Eileen T O'Neill ..... said...


I felt the bitter chill of winter, as I read your words.

Please come back summer sun!

Best wishes, Eileen :)

rch said...

Hi Paul & Eileen hopefully winter will 'fly' by ;)

Dimps said...

Nice title and good verbiage :)