Crows by Ananya S Guha

It was day of  awful
black crows, nesting
by the side, cawing.
They hovered in frenzy,
went out to the rains
to have a bath.
Sloshed, drenched
they came back
with their antics.
Somnambulists,
they stand on an edge
of a precipice;taking
you with their gauche,
black-coloured bodies.
You are afloat watching them.
They are mirrors,in which
we are cadavers.

ananya-s-guha
Ananya S Guha ( 1957) lives in Shillong, in North East India. He has been writing poetry and publishing his poems over thirty years.
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