The Golden Age Of Crows

Blackbird against obsidian
Light a candle
Wings over pitch
Strike a match

Blackbird against obsidian
            I’m listening
The streetlights are going out
            pop pop pop
One by one

It’s fire against fire out here
The aquifers replenish themselves on our saliva, if at all
We dreamed of the suburbs for decades
Now they’re full of so many unlit birds
Like you, my Pan detached Corvus, my hungry intrusion
Claws full of flint and wings made of paper
Your throat full of gregarious soot and belly jangling with shiny objects I don’t remember swallowing
I will let you out, the decision made in hindsight: a reassurance

As if the potential to burn
Was a consolation


About Nate Maxson

Nate Maxson is a writer and performance artist. He is the author of several collections of poetry, most recently "The Whisper Gallery" from Litfest Press. He lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico.
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