Monday, August 15, 2011

Killing a Crow

Something moves, then the collision
Everything follows from indecision                                    
All was lost, except for the beginning
And what people could remember
There was a sound the wind made in the ruined trees
The same in spring as in December
 Silence down in the dirt and leaves
 Something rotting beneath the eaves
 Progress brings new disease
 Where would the rats be without the fleas?
 Black dog out there, prowling around for me
 Next time we meet, will be number three
 Kill a crow
 Change the season
 But when you kill that crow
You can’t have any reason


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