The Raven's Home

 THE RAVEN'S HOME

The Raven's teeth scratched against dry bone,

As he perched in the dark, in the chill of the night fall, wounded,

It being clear he was not of their ilk, they not among his kind,

The keeper's heart bled with softness, for the Raven, held aloft,

Then released he the proud bird from the croft, to the sun and flight,

Among his kith now, the Raven stood, cawing back across the lands,

His home.