Crow was published on the web based poetry magazine: Open Mouse  in November 2013. Thanks to Colin Will for permission to re-use.


Her feathers grasp at the cold air, as she climbs high

In an asymmetrical sky

Against the winter storm, she fights, then glides

Then up again, then down she slides.


She seems, a splash of black paint on a canvas bright

Or a cracked remnant of forgotten night

Neither picture is quite right

She is heart and pain, and feathers and delight


When I am not there to see, she still can fly,

She needs no armchair watcher to watch her, passing by


I do not understand her and her ill-dressed nation,

But she looks for neither understanding nor admiration

All she asks is that I do her no harm

As she flies over field and flies over farm,

Into the charcoal smudged clouds, through and behind,

And out of my mind.



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