A Crow Named Heart



A friend and follower sent me the attached artwork, his own creation, and challenged me to write a poem. When asked whether there was a particular structure he had in mind, he suggested a limerick. That was not, however, going to be the end of the story for me. 



There once was a crow, named Heart,

Who was trapped in a painting of art.

He attempted to flee,

But was only 2D,

Which is hardly a promising start.


Black Heart lived in twilight so blue,

From which there could be no adieu.

And he cried, and he flapped,

And he cried, and he cried,

And there was only twilight.


He pecked, gouged streams

Of black ink from himself, night-black,

Trailing like the branches of withered trees,

Tendrils, veins, capillaries:

And he cried and he cried,

And he flapped and he cried,

Adieu, adieu, adieu.


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