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Mike Acker

Crows And Other Things

They lurk in the eye of a mosquito
clinging to a wall as it considers
its next victim, or float in the air,
like suspended drops of water liberating
light's imprisoned spectrum. They will scatter off
a humming bird's wing, shimmering
blue and green, or skim across

a placid lake's glassen surface. They are found
wedged between a flower's uneven petals.
They can be drifting along side
the odors rising over the life-like corpses
in a fish market. You can barely
make them out at the snaking edge
of the fresh, flowing blood

of a slaughtered sheep.
They ride the low lying clouds
crowning the distant peak
of a majestic mountain.
They linger, smoke-encrusted,
reflecting the neon light shining into
a flop house room. They are written

all over the soulless faces in the morgues,
where all the toes try to point
in the right direction. They're the echo
behind the sharp cawing of a crowd of crows
heading into the trees. They bounce off
a woman's luscious, swaying hips
as she crosses a darkened street.

Sometimes they seem to come
together just when I happen to look
their way and my heart will skip
a beat because it's as if
I was being offered a gift,
a gift that words can only give,
a poem, ready made, made from everything.

Submitted: Monday, October 28, 2013
Edited: Sunday, January 12, 2014

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  • Mike Barrett (11/14/2013 6:41:00 PM)

    Mike, I've read several of your poems and find you gifted. I'm really not a great critic of poetry...perhaps due to the fact that one of my hobbies is wine-making, from grapes. That pastime taught me that each winemaker believes his wine to be the best, and since wine appreciation is so subjective, who am I to critique. I know however what resonates within me and that is true for wine, poetry, and countless other things. Thanks for sharing your poems here. You can find some of mine here on this site, or on my personal site http: // You might like to check out my poem, On gives one an idea of my thoughts on this subject. Cheers! (Report) Reply

  • Alice Vedral Rivera (10/29/2013 12:57:00 PM)

    I like the flow and the imagery of this poem. Words are definitely gifts and when they come together as in this poem, they are strikingly beautiful. (Report) Reply

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