A murder of crows

Morning breaks with the sound of crows,
Their talons against a steel roof,
And their screams of blood against
The crimes of humanity.

Morning light reminds some of peace,
Artificial sunshine makes them smile,
But their happiness is short because
Of the arrows pointed at their eyes.

And some people wonder why they bleed.

Newly sharpened blades whistle
Against the air as they pass.
Faster and faster they go.
Straighter and straighter they fly.

Until there’s nowhere
Else to go.
Until there’s no more sky to fly in,
No more room to move.

And they have to hit something.

Gush goes the broken heart,
Not a snap or a twitch or a crash.
There’s no angelic music, no half-meant sigh;
Only a gasp of surprise, of shock.

Because things aren’t supposed to happen like this,
Because people aren’t meant to be this way;
So distant and unfeeling and uncertain
Of if they should turn left or right.

And they wish for second chances.

They want a do-over,
They want to be able to press rewind;
And correct their mistakes that led them here.
They want to make things right, not left.

And they wonder why the rain falls.

Written September 24 2006.