The Crows Looked On
Standing bare the trees looked dead
Around their feet their raiments lay,
Their life force, it seemed they shed
On this bleak autumnal day.
Black as sin, crows looked on
Then screeched in noisy argument,
A raucous call, no sweet birdsong,
A croak the devil surely sent
No-one else was there but me
As I walked upon the crackling leaves,
I wished I had some company
I fancied ghosts walked midst the trees.
Entry for
COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE(30) any theme any form Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand.
21/10/2020
Copyright © Gary Smith | Year Posted 2020
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