A cinquain for the Secret Keeper’s weekly writing challenge.




feathered streak

sifts details, plays it cool,

lone fledglings put up little fightβ€”


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.

27 thoughts on “Raven”

      1. I’m learning to settle for those little crumbs. I could paper a room with rejection letters full of compliments about my beautiful writing that isn’t a commercial proposition.

      2. Yes, I know what you mean. The other day I got a second rejection from an editor for the same set of poems (I think somehow I had submitted twice.) I thought, wow, he must really think they’re awful. πŸ˜‰

      3. There’s such as thing as being too good. Write something facile, fatuous, mind-bogglingly obvious, trite and puerile and you’ll make a million πŸ™‚

      4. Or with poetry–write something so obscure that no one knows what it’s about (but don’t want to say that), and they will think it’s brilliant. πŸ™‚

  1. This is so like the crow I saw last week, perched on a signpost on a street filled with traffic and people. He was just squawking up a blue storm. “Plays it cool” is right–he was just like a jazz musician riffing on the corner, oblivious to the passers-by. Strangely, everyone ignored him but me…

    1. All the crow family seem to be exhibitionists. I had a similar experience with a jackdaw on a street light. There was a crowd watching a woman (a real exhibitionist) doing an impromptu dance routine down by the river, and behind them, this jackdaw was clowning about, doing bird impressions and messing with the fancy light decorations. Nobody noticed but me.

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