“My Blood is Ageing Concrete”
Now upon my shoulder is a roost
And upon do talons perch
Now my shoulder is a post
From this vantage does he search
From alleyways to breezeways
In bright of day or at night
He watches and observes man
Citing him somber and trite
My blood is ageing concrete
Here I gaze, to always stand
Though storms and ice scathe my skin
Coal black wings bring him to land
I stay to guard my courtyard
Why he comes, I do not know
While they praise the monument
Mankind cowers from the crow
(1993)
No comments:
Post a Comment