Bill Yates Poet Free verse

Notes About The Poem

THESE ARE MY RECENT POEMS. MY FIRST BOOK OF POEMS WILL BE RELEASED SOON BY GOLDMINDS PUBLISHING. http://www.goldmindspub.com/#!bill-yates/c10a6
 

Hieroglyphs of the Gods

If I stare at the blank page long enough
Words will appear,
Words written in black ink, not mollified.
The words will grow together
Like grass forming a sod.

Then, as if on cue,
Spoons dance,
And horseshoes have wings.
A very short story would be the prime motive,
A murder of crows, perhaps.
And perhaps not.

Sometimes, the mud crawls together like glue.
It seals the burial of the crows.
It speaks in a slow language.
To interpret the hieroglyphs of the gods
Would be worthy.

The phone rings:
It is Kathmandu, dispirited. 
Out of Montana a horn blows,
And the mountains sing.
The magpies are summoned to a conference
They will divide the spoils.
Their calls resound
On the north face of a mountain.

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