Hannah Palindromes Rock!
May 13, 2014
Alone Each Is A Crow
Black feathered birds alight in the sky,
In large looping circles they fly.
The tips of their feathers seem to gleam,
As if from some deep starlit dream.
Together they screech and scream in delight
With thrill in their murder's early flight.
In the end before dawn they scatter,
As morning light the night does shatter.
As many they are still one,
But alone each is a crow.
As it sits stock-still as stone,
The bird's dark eyes continue to roam.
Like mirrors they are windows to the soul
As deep as stormy seas that ever roll.
Throughout the lonely day the crows wait
'till drawn back together by strong fate.
With rusty voices they begin to sing
As with joy they again take wing.
As many they are still one,
But alone each is a crow.
Though it's true death takes us all,
Never does one crow ever fall.
Their wings are always strong and steady.
Though their voice whispers a mournful medley.
They speak of those who have to die
And those who stay to say good-bye.
Like a malevolent storm: in the air they glide,
Lifted by the wild winds they ride.
As many they are still one,
But alone each is a crow.