Friday, January 23, 2004


(Raven is feeling cheerier, has gone out to say his farewells to his buddies who hang out by the river.)

Raven is circling
raindrops over the river,
whooping and cackling:
it is the first rain in months,
and he's spinning his feathers

at the novelty.
Although the sign by the bridge
says "Don't throw garbage
in the river!", plastic bags
of trash swirl their way downstream:

a smorgasbord for
Raven, no ecologist,
to pick and choose from.
Pecking at the plastic scabs,
he stains the river with death.

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