Tuesday, October 11, 2016

As the Crow Flies

A crow, power line clenched in his talons,
memorizes my face
as I walk below.
His black eye
takes in the set of my jaw
the downward turn of my mouth
my stiffened shoulders
my red, red eyes.
"I will remember you,"
he caws,
his voice hoarse with promise.
"I will single you out.
I will know you next time."
The crow
who can count to six
who turns on his brethren
for no good reason
who picks his breakfast from
cracks in the blacktop
and waits until cars are dangerously close
before flapping his wings
in a lazy hop...
He blinks
recording my sad, ordinary self
imprinting my sorrow on his mind's eye.
Then he spreads his extraordinary wings
and leaves the power line trembling.
He swoops overhead
without so much as a good-bye.
We will meet again
I know.
He will remember the sad core of me
and bob his head in recognition.





8 comments:

  1. Now I will look at crows differently, wondering what they are thinking and remembering. My hope is the next time he sees you, it won't be with red eyes and a sad ordinary self.

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  2. I love that you took new learning and turned it into a wonderful poem!

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  3. Wow, this is a great poem for October's Halloween time, Lori. I love crow stories, know they are so smart, but do wonder if he will remember, or just pass along the info?

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  4. I'm sorry for your sorrow, but so enjoyed this wonderful poem with all the crow lore woven into it.

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  5. I really enjoyed your sense of melancholy here! Fascinating to know about crows' memory.

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  6. I really enjoyed your sense of melancholy here! Fascinating to know about crows' memory.

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  7. Wonderful, haunting tones here, Lori. I saw a huge crow while hiking Saturday, and your words are making me re-cast that moment.

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  8. Lori, crows are rather strange characters who defy the odds. I have missed your Galley Street adventures. Are you slicing this March?

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