crow in the rain

you know me

by my blackened feathers

and dark eyes

tonight

rain flows in a thin cold film

from my head

to my throat

falling to my feet

in pale grey drops

you know me by my call -

raw and brusque

not sweet and kind

and yet the words i sing

i sing like a kiss

(you know the kind)

the soul-opening

world unfolding kiss

that sells all else before it

as cheaply

as any night market trinket

danced into desire

by a hawker man

ever was -

bent on you

but only for an instant ...

my words hover

and hold

entire moments

great spaces

in which lives begin and end

and begin again

you know, this rain ...

this rain serves me well

as it soaks my scars

with its electric

blue linament

and slides

so moistly off the rock

to which i have attached

the small clinging hope i have

for an evening

spent in solitude

and peopled by wishes

so bold

and unlikely

as to frighten off any takers

hearing my call

my kiss

my song

photo from google images shared by tess kincaid at magpie tales