The Ravens

The ravens sit among
the branches
shouting down abuse
like young renegades
sensing vulnerability.
They shit upon authority;
they go quiet, waiting.
One squawk is weak and lame
yet the chorus takes control,
infuses its defiance into things.
Ah, let the hormones thrust
their vigor out across space
let it dissipate into nothing,
flapping black wings
across the sun shadows
of dying days.
Always their must be ravens
to sense weakness
taunt authority;
both need testing sometimes.

David Fraser likes to balance his life among a variety of activities in the areas of writing, education and sports. When he is not formally working as an educator, he is either writing and researching or involved in one of the following sports: alpine skiing, ski teaching as a full time professional ski instructor at Mt. Washington, BC http://www.mtwashington.bc.ca/winter/default.cfm , windsurfing, tennis, golf, cycling, hiking. In addition he likes to garden, listen to the blues, and search for his way through Taoism. He has built his second water garden which has become his new daily sanctuary. His is learning and refining his Spanish fluency and will travel back to Central and South America in the near future. He lives among the flora and fauna of the British Columbia West Coast.

Email: David Fraser

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