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