The crows smelled
Flesh fumes burning
Perched upon my shoulder
One tipped its head.

People limped around, sniffing
Dragging their feet
Huffing into the air; spiked
With fresh wounds

Hounds slathered their teeth
Saliva and hunger
Following with guttural growls
Prancing in Celtic dance

They smell the dead
Shackled to the feet
Of tall men
Hauling it in streets

We stumble, wooden eyed
Tasting the vermin sea
Strapping the dead
Throwing the key.

by Shreya Nair

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