scolding scalding caws
and claws on blackboards
chords of older songs
seemed stronger longer than
the days the slower ways
the crow says as he flies
gray skies hold promises of storm
the walls the hallowed halls or
moral qualms inspire psalms
and layers of prayers from absent
mothers, fathers, calms the beast
that feasts on young and
rears a greedy head and wed
to things that never last we
cast our nets and bring them
back and weep for tatters
scatter seed in empty hands
attempt to quench the thirst
with sand the wooden skeletal
remains of boats, of pain
of what was meant, not what was sent
still gazing up we question why
but crow just circles empty sky
while clouds bear witness to a lie
we bought and fought for holding tight
to grasping clasping wringing hands
we’re tied to land with dampened wings
and crows can fly but never sing