Carrion Crows

by Ragnhild Askillsdottir

I follow the raven, Odin's messenger,
As he wheels above the battle
Awaiting the gift of carrion
Men who stood so tall and proud in morning light
By evening all are fallen
And when the battle's over I do not ask who won or lost
I only think
This body will not need these boots again
This cloak is blood-soaked, but still warm
And maybe here are trinkets I can sell

I have no need for heroes
Just the courage of the fox
To dart and snatch and run to ground

I have no need for stories
My dreams...
Are marrow from the bones of a wolf's kill
Found while I was starving
And a fire to huddle by at winter's dark

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