11 Crows

There’s another crow landing on my head
I believe it’s the tenth one today
I don’t understand why these birds keep coming to me
Their feathers black like the inners of a dead man
Their beaks sharp as filed flint
Their talons tear into my shirt, cutting my skin
I hear their rasping, straining, croaking cry
I wonder when I will die.

There’s another crow landing on my head
I believe it’s the eleventh one today
I heard it mutter in my ear,
"Soon your time will come."
I do not flinch nor move nor even breathe
The talons release my shoulder
I know the time has come...