James Maxwell – Crow

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I watched a crow crawl across the

Street in the heat of summer afternoons

Amongst rows of ebony garbage bags sagging

Like neglected raisins suffering in the sun

Her neck twisted and proud crown craned eastward

Struggling against the weight of her body, once

A glistening vessel of breath and song now the

Bulk of worries

Now a bed of

Weeping plumage returning to the

Earth through a crack in

The asphalt

That night, I sobbed into my sheets like

Wrinkled bladders where I

Piss dreams for warmth and

Surrender to sleep as if

Rowing my way home again



But rowing nevertheless



James Maxwell

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