Thoughts on a Raven

The wide expanse commands his eye, the vast horizon fills his view. He glides above the scrubland dry. His dark form passes ‘neath the blue. The shadow sweeps the canyon edge, defiant of the desert’s maw. The breezes blow him past the ledge. He issues forth his chilling caw. He perches where the canyon bends, his fearsome claws hook’d to the crags, posed suggestive of legends of servitude to foes and hags. But nigh forgot’s his legacy: his panting taints the canyon wall. For the raven we’ve found sympathy- the fearsome heat gets to us all. Some will say he is perverse. He is renowned for trickery This creature, though, carries no curse, yet has aura of mystery.