W3 – Robert Frost

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black”

I spied a crow with a broken wing
Desperately trying to speak or sing
I lifted it carefully in my hand
Its vibrant feathers now dull and bland
A gasping breath, a whispered sound
And then it was gone, heaven bound
I lay it back on the ground
Made leaves a solemn wreath surround.

***

W3 Prompt #126: Wea’ve Written Weekly

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