Rubies and Crows
Three crows pecked away the heart rubies
from an ice cream coned childhood dream.
When the crows weren't gorging and preening
They'd layer black caw over all of the sweet dream.
These three hags, and I, have grown old and bitter together.
Forever taunting from ruby-stained beaks.
I don feathers from a fractured past.
Minted as trophies atop a foamy nightcap.
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