Corvus corone corone

This was written last Summer for a competition,  for a gallery displaying art involving the subject ‘Crows’.

Nothing was heard, so I suspect, at best, its still on the wing!


I see you Crow.

I watch your studied nonchalance.

Your oil drip eye gives nothing back

green gleam on midnight feathers

steals surrounding light.


I know you Crow.

The trickster who can count

 gifted master of the false feint

when paired and stealing food

from the unsuspecting.


I hear you Crow.

Not for you the Rook’s ‘Caw’

but a raucous shout for meat

with your ‘Pawk  Pawk’

and your butcher’s beak.


I fear you Crow.

I feel your dark slow strut

feather ancient memory of the hunt,

the unknown made  gravid

by the eater of the dead.


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