Raven was getting older
around the eyes
and at the wing tips
but the hunger remained the same
every day when the Sun came
and when the Sun left
across the sky of Youth and Old
at night the bird thought of days
he thought of his thoughts
wondered about truth, what possible truth
truth under your wings
in the thickness of the air
in what is before you
in what has been lost
Raven was hungry yes
for meal and truth
perhaps also for yesterday
::: ::: :::
Picture: And that felt fine by reading_is_dangerous
In Nianzale
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