The Raven
Again the raven whose sleek, dark wings shine
sits upon my sagging sleek power line.
His eyes so questioning, he does sure stare.
Does he know something? Do I ask?
Should I dare? 5
Never, ever saying not even one little word
so still and silent, this dark looming bird.
Visits me each and every single day, but never a
word does he say. My emotions I sense he knows
are mixed with his curious eyes affixed. 10
As the evening sunset finally domes
the dark bird returns to his home.
He leaves me with a feeling of such dread
I hope tomorrow he will stay home instead. 14
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