The Ravens Cry

Words fade, born twice and live spans slowly,

Mankind, an orphan of the universe, sits unholy.

Ravens cry a ceasing cry, looking mute to sunshine,

They fly freely, singing soft notes to simply confine.

Sun bears hard downward on the big Mississippi town,

Ravens sit in shade patiently plotting a meal so needed.

Poor farmer, poor sharecropper, beg ravens to just look down,

Only a truck patch, one plow, one woman, a life done seeded.

A proud conspiracy, says the travelin’ preacher

Sad souls in sand with no feet, a strange teacher.

Walk proudly, ravens black, stay from the sack

Land softly, ravens quite and find your sad life back.