Big Black Crows

big black crows
keep following me
everywhere i go....

and this morning i heard
the trees whsipering,
as we rode down the road......

drifting clouds, and vacant buildings,
people walking, heads bent down.
children's faces staring out frosted windows,

old dog lying in the sun.
shadows forming faces,
then dissolving back to shadow.....

memories hang like nails on the wall,
that the Painter's brush cant quite hide.
the scent of perfume, wind devils and rust....

big black crows and ashes drifting,
from a heart set on fire!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!