Drowsy pigeons peck at puddles of crumbs as
emaciated ravens console wavering widows.
Cadavers flown home on thrones of hushed
bones dream of nothing new, evermore.
Drowsy pigeons peck at puddles of crumbs as
emaciated ravens console wavering widows.
Cadavers flown home on thrones of hushed
bones dream of nothing new, evermore.
I really like your use of alliteration to control the sounds in this poem. The long vowel sound of “o” is very nice in the line “cadavers flown home on thrones…” Very nice.
Thank you so much!