Funeral of a Crow

A crow’s black corpse
On an otherwise pristine pavement
Threw me off my leisure track

Furtively I neared the crumpled body
And saw it had been savagely torn apart
Coal-bead eyes dully staring into the sky’s expanse as if wishing
It could find refuge in the wind even as it’s life flickered and was violently stilled

The coils of pink guts made bright trailing patterns
On the grey-white canvas of pavement
Soon enough other crows would come to claim the body
Beaks pecking listlessly into eyes,
Beaks pecking solemnly into guts and wings;
To take into the body
What used to be brother, and absorb into self