(Painting: “Wheatfield with Crows” by Vincent van Gogh, 1890.)

A black crow
blots
a sunflower-soaked
field.
They stare
at him –
his ugliness.
But it
does not
deter him.
He caws
loudly,
it makes
the sunflowers
shrivel.
They squirm
to hide
from him,
to overthrow him,
flustered at
his presence.
But he
does not
relent.
He caws
until the sunflowers
shiver
with hatred.
Suddenly,
another crow
joins him.
And then
another.
Soon,
a whole black mass
of crows,
like an oil spill
in an ocean.
They caw
together
with the
reverberation
of an elephant’s roar.
It folds
the field
of sunflowers
into depletion.
They whimper
at the sight
of the black mass
as it
soars away
towards the sun.

XXXX

Ken Kakareka is a poet, novelist, short story writer, essayist, and editor who lives in Fullerton, California with his lovely wife. He is the author of Late to Bed, Late to Rise (Black Rose Writing, 2013). Ken’s words have appeared or are on their way in a number of rags including Gargoyle Magazine, Route 7 Review, Horror Sleaze Trash, The Beatnik Cowboy and so on. A list of selected publications can be found at kenkakareka.com.