I had not heard him coming –
Until his last footfalls crunched the snow,
Then he stood beside me on that winter’s day.
The lake was frozen over,
So the wild birds came for bread,
A piercing, chirping singing choir,
All in disarray.
He nodded –
Then gestured with his eyes
Towards the nearby woods,
I watched as many more of them flew in;
A concerto of competing notes,
Outplaying every crumb,
Hunger pangs, orchestrated by their wings.
Then at last the ravens came –
Two black shapes,
Against the white crowned trees;
They circled, as if looking for someone.
The stranger pulled his collar up,
Nodded me goodbye,
Within seconds, all three of them had gone.
.© (Löst Viking) (21st December 2015) John Anthony Fingletonhttps://www.facebook.com/pages/Löst-Viking/746104845419195