Coldest Night

Black raven perches on fence, eyes piercing
Through snow-misted air, bill poised for killing-
I mused how many will die, unburied 
As howling wind knives the fields, dry, stinging

Our eyes, blue with salt, as we hurried
through burdens & loneliness, stacked, storied-
I don't want to wither in storm's tempest
My hands are fighting life, blood, breath flurried



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetry form - Rubaiyat, hosted by Frank Hubeny.  This is an interlocking rubaiyat - AABA, BBCB.  Inspired by seeing a black raven in the garden during our cold winter night.