Caw, caw, caw,
a raven flutters, perches
on my minds frozen windowsill.
Lawn perfume on smoggy air;
I fall through the trapdoor
of my own thoughts.
As I gaze through frosted glass
I watch the old maple
ring its wind chimes.
Is it natural to desire destruction
of something you can never have?
Trapped in the mind’s castle, warmed
by flames flickering in the massive stone fireplace,
I see a lonely future dark as coal.
Caw, caw, caw—
my wise Raven,
answering his own question:
What time is it?
Time to live.
Seek beauty in whatever you do.
© 2025 Bruno Talerico
Stafford challenge 353/365.
Desert Dweller 