Crows

Like crows

we picked shiny things off the ground.

A crushed beer can.

A dime.

A rusty car emblem.

How did you spot them so easily,

Father,

with only one eye?

We collected broken things

that no one else wanted.

Said we’d fix them one day,

use them for something.

 

Two crows sit outside my window.

They caw at dawn

which lights my room

full of broken things.

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “Crows

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s