December 2012

Crow in Autumn

[wpaudio url=”/audio/december12/Moody.mp3″ text=”listen to this poem” dl=”0″]
The crow is screaming
at an apparent Nothing

Fall air replete with skeletal trees,
incalculable blue

Autumn means never having to apologize for that
which is no longer here

The crow didn’t get the memo,
persists in his relentless conjurings