Blake,
I regret telling the crow to wake at dawn,
To call his ravens,
So that they should croak in the early morning hours,
When the day is young,
So that dull and dapper ones,
Perched atop the rusting coal lamppost.
And oh,
Do I pray tell,
To they that send a distant message,
One to reach a thousand ears,
And a million lifetimes,
So that their caw may clear the heavens,
To wipe them clean of the doves,
And the cardinals,
And the lemon colored robins,
So that the sky,
In its youth,
Is a spotless slate of quartz.
Sincerely,
Cass
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Whisper Ink
Poetry#1 in poetrystory #238 in poem They're two worlds apart. It seems they will never speak to each other in person, only in short poems sent across the world. Can an ocean keep two minds apart? This is a bite-size, slice of life story of short poems se...
