Why the Crow flies High

Poem about dying

I stand by the window watching

I know it will not be long

I can not be strong



You murmur in your sleep

I step to your bed

and kiss your head



I whisper soothing words

Prayers and wishes

Cover you with kisses



"Don't go," I plead

But it's too late

You couldn't wait



Outside the sky is blue

The sunrise show

A bright red glow



And dark birds

Riding on the breeze

With the boldest ease



As my tears dry

I whisper "Now I know why

the crow flies high"