The Observer
The raven knows where our past lays
The raven knows it true
He sleeps at night, ‘caws’ by day
Fixing his eyes like glue.
There was a time the raven soared
Above the cedars by the coast
Even before the waves first roared
And Skedans was known to most.
He waited while I ate my lunch
And when I left him for a sail
He ate the crumbs, the whole darned bunch.
You’re bound to hear the raven’s cackle
But never leave your gear nearby
For you’re sure to lose your block and tackle.
And fishing’s come and gone
But the raven’s seen what god has sent
And knows what man has done.
While tankers ply the strait
The raven with his watchful eye
Just watches while he waits.
The fish come back to spawn
The raven sleeps but fitfully
Still waiting for the dawn.
Seagulls in its wake
The raven waits a little more
To see what it can take.
Bringing fishers from the mist
The raven takes it all in tow
Adding memories to his list.
To where I do not know
The raven will still sing his song
And the winds continue to blow.
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