Crow Boy Of The City

The city of despair rained down on the boy
until he could take no more, so he made friends
with those shadows ‘neath the sky,
those midnight callers perched on wires
and rooftops, calling out a rasping rolling thunder
telling of storms and freedom, and
every night at midnight he’d climb those rusted stairs
to rooftops black and friendless,
and he called the crows,
fellow outcasts in the night,
and together boy and bird cawed tales of danger and of hope,
until that night he left this world of iron,
where the heart can turn to stone,
and he gave his soul to his black feathered friends
as they flew as one across the night sky.