The Calling of the Crow in the morning
shattered within itself before it bleeds
a rattle with the memory of a seed
whose sound is the sound of awakening
empty against hollow cacophony
steepening in the hollow its chamber
stored by rote memory in a quaver
Crow mimics the disembodied silence
through the conflict of soundless currents
and lives with its absence a sonic reed
The heart of a crow is a masterpiece.
As the voice that inherits a seedling
grows toward its heart as it penetrates
the drum of Crow’s heart is a labyrinth
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