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Rated: ASR · Prose · Arts · #747082
A raven plays a trick in order to get a silver tear.
I was walking in the night time fog
Heels clicking on the pavement
The only sound to be heard
When suddenly
Fog parted
There before me
A raven
I turned to leave before its watchful eye
Could be turned to me
I noticed the feathers ruffle
As if from a breeze
Eyes closed
Wings outstretched
In flight it rested
Peacefully on the walk
Distraught I turned
Watched once more
Tears came to eyes
I began to cry
This raven.
This bird.
This person did not deserve to die.
A perfect tear fell from my eye,
Sparkling with life.
Down it fell toward the flying raven
Blue black feathers flashing
In night's moonlit dew.
It leaped up,
Cawed.
The raven caught the falling tear.
Trick through,
It flew,
Silver tear in beak.
Suprised I watched.
It fly toward the fleeing moon,
To its goddess.
A tear of silver,
Caught.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/747082-Silver-Tear