Crow’s feat

728px-silhouette_of_a_crow

Sky is blue

above the placid river,

mirror-smooth,

crow flaps,

searching the rushes

for quiet death.

 

Such a burden to carry

among sleek black plumes,

sheen of sun and river glitter,

and with every slow flap flap

the portents scatter

like ashes

in the eyes of the wary world.

 

Ages old, the dark eyes,

bright as jet beads,

have seen the grass grow where forests sprang

and run red with battlefield blood.

Crow tears a strip of carrion,

cleans the river bank of untidy death

and slips sleek as a seal

into the eternal blue sky.

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Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

18 thoughts on “Crow’s feat”

      1. Social birds tends to be interesting because we can relate to them. I love watching them house hunting. This spring I saw several couples checking out the old nests from the previous year. They’d poke about, try them for size, fight with other couples who tried to push in out of turn. One couple I really loved tried out one nest, hopped about on the branches around it, pecked at the twigs, testing the insulation, and one of them decided he/she wasn’t interested and flew off to a nest a few trees futher on. His/her mate didn’t follow, but settled down in the nest, trying it out, and the mate had to come back and bawl him/her out. Just like people…

  1. I like crows. There’s one in the neighborhood with a very distinctive call that seems to follow me around, especially when I should be paying more attention to the world. The shadow photo is a perfect companion to your words, like an ancient tale retold. (K)

    1. Thank you! I have a soft spot for the outcasts. Not sure if crows throw out the irritating antisocial elements but there always seem to be one or two that get mobbed when they get too close to the others. One of them sits on top of a very beautiful classical building and I swear it quacks like a duck. Always alone, poor critter.

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