Omen
They sat before a range of mountains,
the first man remarking to the other,
‘Look at the splendour of the natural world.’
‘What splendour do you see?’
‘The foliage, the fauna, the whole view, the big picture.’
They stared with wonder
until the second replied,
‘Upon inspection, it appears to be a holiday resort.’
‘But still, the hotels are majestic, full of splendour.’
A raven sat itself down on the fence behind them
before keeling over with an ignoble caw.
‘Perhaps it is an omen from Odin.’
‘Odin is a myth.’
‘Only because the Christians massacred the Vikings.’
‘I never knew you felt that way about us Christians.’
‘I never knew you were a Christian.’
William Rollinson is a graduate living in Devon. When he is not busy writing about himself in the third person he writes poetry.