Crows

The sea of crows fly noisily towards their nests in the pink grey of the evening, as I walk beneath them, towards the paying ward.

This is what we do. This is our routine, I think to myself. The crows and me.

I’ve walked this walk for many months now, and these crows, they are always flying towards their homes when I get here. And they are always so loud. We seem to be going in opposite directions every time.

By the time we leave the hospital they’ll be fast asleep in their nests, the silence even though welcomed, will always be deafening.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s