The car turned round the bend,
headlight caught the mess.
"Oh my God, its horrendous!"
Carcass of a rook in the road
crushed into the tarmac stones,
except its a black umbrella,
spikey spine stuck up
like an obscene claw
waving in your mind, while its black cloth
slowly ripples in the wet wind
like the headlit shadow of a fluttering moth.
We shall always have rain,
just as rooks will be reluctant to leave
a disembowelled hare,lying carelessly
beneath a mangled umbrella,
while spray from vehicles hangs across
a highway stretching endlessly away.