Kings Road

let the thickly twisted pine

bowing deeply regally to the east decide

what kind of day

it will be

for no reason

at his blackest most noble

the raven is alone with the pine

in the rutted dust

of the washboard road

he looks in the far away look

distance history of the horizon

hoping to see what the raven sees

to a sun opening the sky to day

gold drizzling out of little hills

little lies that are the hopeless love

told in the rising shimmer of the raven's

caressing wings

jppestana december 14, 2016