Condolers Poem by Ananta Madhavan

Condolers



It was a queue of carrion crow.
At other times they would have cawed and clawed,
But now, in honour of the newly dead,
They stood, correctly black, from beak to tail,
And passing, dipped their aged beaks
In the red gore,
And walked by with an air of proper grief.
He died young.

Monday, May 19, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: death of a friend
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
I wrote this grim verse in the 1960s, when we mourned the premature death of a brilliant colleague.
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