Murder in the City
By Silver Spun Sand
Thu, 11 Sep 2008
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5 comments
An air of death
in the City this morning.
No one heeded
no one saw
as it lurked
in the shadows
by the cinereous wall
of Barclay’s Bank
where line upon line
of shiny black brogues
scuffed, off-white trainers
steel-tipped stilettos filed past
in relentless procession.
A pigeon lay
bedraggled
feathers bloodied
eyes pecked out
ant infested sockets.
A murder of crows
has no code of decency
no sense of decorum.
An air of death
in the City this morning
yet no one heeded.
No one saw
the pigeon
by the wall.
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Comments
Love the description in this
Permalink Submitted by Caolan_le_Paddy on
Love the description in this poem, very graphical and dark. You must have some amazing dreams if you can come up with this. It's got a nice flow to it that just hooked me into it. Great poem.
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Dear Tina, a slight
Permalink Submitted by luigi_pagano on
Dear Tina, a slight departure from your usual style but effective nonetheless. And no mistake. As a mutual friend would say.
I like the line 'A murder of crows' and I assume it is a pun on the collective noun of those birds similar to 'A kindness of ravens'. Not being an ornithologist, I am only guessing. Am I right?
But I digress. I wanted to say it is nice to see good poetry being rewarded.
Luigi, X at the power of N.
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