Bed-sick she heard the bird's call <br />fall soft as a pall that night <br />quilts tightened around her throat, <br />her grey eyes narrowed, their light <br />gone as she saw what she'd heard <br />waiting for her in the tree <br />cut down at daybreak by kin <br />to make the coffin, bury <br />that perch around her so death <br />might find one less place to rest.<br /><br />Ron Rash<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-corpse-bird/
