No more carrion crows
a-carryin’ woes

Give me a baby lynx,
some fine-tuned hunter
without the strength to kill

Teach ’em all to cuddle
before they have to gnash and tear

I want to be there,
when they all huddle
for warmth

A crow caws in the distance

They know the cold,
they know
the end


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s