A poem

From back at Bethel

First I just want to say, I really did see on three different days, three dead blackbirds.  The first was kind of peacefully melancholy, the second kind of sad, the third, depressing.  It was weird.  So . . .

Three Dead Crows

The first day, the rain came down and wept great tears over one
                    fallen, alone
The second day came and with it cool winds
                         over two were blown
And on the earth the second lay
  under the blue sky,
and the first not far away
   on the corner lies
The third day, the last lay stiff with no wind or tear
                       in dirt and decay.
The fourth day, I also shall disappear
                           and nothing say.

Ah! You my friends had a song to sing!
And who ever flew the way you flew!
But down to the earth is bound the wing
That once through heavens flew
Down to the earth, you who three
    once through blue sky and grey sky
and in bold despite of gravity
  soared.  But now cold death
has reminded me
how slight is the breath of humanity.

The first day came with a weeping sky
         and tears rolled off your back
The second day came with bitter winds
         that ruffled the dull and black
The third day came with only decay
        and in filth you laid and in dearth
The fourth day I shall fade away
        and never walk this earth.