Feathered Muse

I flew in from the cold, 
my shadow a fluster 
sat up on this frozen bust. 
A gaunt of a man 
stood down below, 
yelling obscenities 
I’m not sure at whom he’s cursing.
I just stood there minding my own, 
then a rock was thrown. 

This human keeps cursing, 
keeps bursting with frustration. 
I decided to move a little, 
he didn’t see me coming. 
This stupid human, 
knows nothing of a ravin. 
Aw he thinks me to be a craven 
or a ghost from the past 
coming at last. 

If only he knew, I am lost. 
Nothing more than a flustered thing 
with a broken wing. 
Yet he took me in, 
Helped my wing. 
I leave him alone 
and confused. 

I see this man from year’s past, 
he welcome’s me back. 
Aw with such poetic finance, 
and respect 
for I am his feathered muse. 

The Raven I am.


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