Nine Crows

[just mercedes]

I never told you about the vulture
that cut the sun in half the day we met;
its shadow paved my honest path [honest? word choice]
and I, with cracked feet and arid eyes,
blindly followed. [followed blindly]

Did I mention the nine crows
that perch, sleep and dream of swimming
on the valley's ascending power-lines [dangling participle]
with the deep hum of late night television
soothing thought their toes? [through?]

I will tell your absent ears of the nights
spent picking blood from beneath my nails,
t-shirts drenched in the souls of innocents[wearing more than one tshirt?]
granted by empty bottles under boughs
of perched vultures
that are not willing to fly for me, again

and how the crows are always there.

Quite a dark poem! Crows in the wires and vultures in the trees - I like the particular 'things' in your poem, not so keen on the abstract, such as 'souls of innocents'.

Maybe you could cut down on your use of adjectives - there aren't many nouns in your poem without one.

Thank you for the read - I'd love some feedback on my poem in the members only section, if you have time.