Custodians of the Gloaming
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#posts #poetryI have stumbled into the season of crows.
Still silhouettes watch my lethargic bones
shuffle through leaf murk into the gloom.
Issuing decrees in calls, they summon mist -
uncertainty that lingers over my skin,
our inevitable destination, dank and decay.
I bow, of course. Reverence to the gatekeepers,
the ones that wait between here and nowhere.
Make peace with their shiny feathers of void,
ignore their sharpened talons, their pointed beaks.
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