Cackling Crows

by Alice Parris

So freely have images
Flown before me;
Reflected in my
Stream of consciousness.
Crows come,
Picking at my
Neat rows of wording,
Leaving crow tracks
In my
Field of endeavors;
Eating tomorrow's
Verbiage for winter.
What shall I use
As a scarecrow
To chase away
These cackling crows
From the fertile fields
Of my mind?

Cackling Crows by Alice Parris

© Copyright 2004. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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