Postmortem Recognitum

what do we do

about the crow that cries

at the cross of dawn

perched on the verge

picking bare the bones

of the night before

he guides a sigh

to the gentle rise

and fall

of her

turned

spine

snaps on a face

all seemly eyes

and crooked smile

his firm

flat hands

slap down

thin air

three times

this cannot be

allowed to rise

and stand

but she has grown

a wall from a weed

at his garden’s door

Reviews

[Lisasview]

Good morning Brad,
First poem I have read of your..I was drawn in immediately because you use the word crow and that is the word I use (a metaphor for Innocence) in my poem Innocence.
Our poems are different of course...
I loved your poem...
Lisa, now in Spain

[Red Brick Keshner]

The crow I'd specie reassign as a rooster, lol. But on a more serious note, the body of the poem is amazing and the cap off with the last 2-lines; that is powerful! Thanks for sharing, Brad.