Tree bark with no details
just sharp shadows
in front of distant sky.
The crows give each other
warnings about skulking
too close to their claims.
Usually consisting of a goat,
now just a sack of broken
insides picked apart.
They go for the heart
without consideration
for their feathered souls.
There are no hidden tolls
to pay on their way
down the fabled river.
They fly along side the ferry
and their caws drop the jaws
of the forgotten dead.
The water reflects
their empty guts back at them.
The starvation their consecration
of eternity.
Consecration of Crows
Teleporting Typewriter 