On the subject of Crow

I woke up morose

Then I wrote a new haiku,

Not really that good

LMAO

Crow

Hard to lament loss

When you are not even sure

You deserved to win

My whiskey-voiced Angel
No longer speaks to me,
She only flits in and out
Of my mind's eye
Leaving footprints and tears
In her wake.

What a strange kind of love this is

That lingers after hope has died,
Not letting go or giving up
In spite of failure and of pride,

Lost

No pictures of her
Just memories
Images you'll never see,

The warmth of her skin
Heat in her eyes
Kisses that I came to prize,

Her woman's charm
Her childlike glee
All that love is lost to me.

Fragments

No salvation,
No inspiration,
A heart's conflagration
A bleak celebration.



The more I learn
The less I feel
The more I know
The less I heal

Lay my shade to rest
Upon no hallowed ground
And quiet the fire within my heart
With but the barest  sound,