leslie f. miller's Page

the night before halloween

in the dream,
i caw and they come,
in dozens,
a black cloud,
my flock,
heads cocked as if
awaiting word
from the great crow,
today's agenda:
what to do,
where to go.

i fall silent.
my wings droop,
synthetic feathers
glued to board,
my beak a mask,
rubber mouse
in my maw.… Continue