the raven dances before my eyes he’s really quite a dream
dark enveloping sight to be seen I want to be taken by him
he rolls his r’s he dances, charms, his deep blue eyes engorge
and pretty pretty provocative he flaps his wings: –
what a dirge…
never battle weary, never battle heavy this path is owned by him
and him and I we touch the stars the dark moon heaves the skies
I heard his words they’re in my heart
but I cannot fathom the sooty, blackened art
so unto him I cry.
but I will dream of another man
I have my crow he’s native bound house dwelling on sand
he’s the perfect familiar to a darkened ‘line
with nine lives to live but on number 10
I guess this cat has more times to thrive
and she, oh she, will, coupled with he, will conjoin
and dine upon each other’s feasts,
their souls will know, be, hailed unto thee
the sunset’s reds and blues don’t matter the horizon glares before our eyes
but for a crow and for a cat and the wandering accompanying later bats
we will divine with magic all damn night,
we will divine with sheer and utter delight.
© 2022 Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose. All rights reserved.
Photo from Pixabay