A murder of crows, mimicking voices of ancestors
grumbled at each other in the forest
about another storm to come
and no more corn to squabble over.
Taking shuddering flight,
they left me feeling barren,
as pine must feel with unshook branches
and unsung songs to encourage them
to bend against these winter winds.
Oh hover with us til spring, black hearts.
In a list
A contest entry
- New Year's Flight by penman.
525 points, ended January 1, 2008, 5 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Wonderful
Very well done. Best of luck in the contest.
-
You can find so much in the common and the everyday, describe it until it becomes richly metaphorical, then with a word or phrase, translate that wealth of possibility to human society or the human spirit. It is an enviable gift.
By the way, this reminds me of several anglo-Saxon lyrics in which crows speak, act, and comment on human foibles and failings...and on death.
Well done.
-
Excellent poem This was very god and goo dluck in the contest. all the best to you.
Adding your comment:
