Uncommonly Faithful

Not much here. 
Not prize or punishment,
just pieces of bone
stripped of feather,

grey, cold boulders
arranged in circles

and exquisite fear;

see how its smoky
colorless face turns
back to count

its victims.

Somewhere on
a bleached, naked

a primitive screech,
a flinging out and up,

far as it could reach
into nothingness

and flickering.

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