'Oh, go away!'
raven drops his complaint
to a grieving grizzle -
ah, ah, aaaaaahhh .
long last note after
the death of love.
'He'd be good as sculpture -
see? The shiny metal
of his feathers,
the fleshy bag of his chin.'
What would we make of him
if he was made by us?
Raven perches on
a glazed tree root
carved into a kangaroo
beside the playground.
'He should be in a museum
under glass - not here.'
Real? Art
is distanced from
this day, its chill
and laughing children.
Art? It is real root
and black raven -
Ah, ah, aaaaahhh.
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