Hræfn
By onemorething
- 1601 reads
I saw a raven in tumble flight,
drop a stone and plunge
to catch it, a wingbeat of pitch,
gloss of midnight, hackled.
I heard the raven laugh,
then browse the sky -
a dark scowl,
a relishing.
Such determination
could only be wrought of love and rage,
the kind that makes a raven follow a wolf
and a wolf follow a raven,
both longing for the dead --
a raven was found, once,
in the grave of a soldier;
its wings splayed like an angel.
And once, there was a white raven,
ghostpale, heavy with the sins of history,
a seraph, of holy, holy, holy
Till sadness turned him black.
I do not know
what the raven remembers,
though he talks and talks,
I think he keeps his secrets now,
I think that he is free.
Hræfn- OE for Raven
Image is from here: https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Common_Raven_on_Seedskadee_National_Wildlife_Refuge_(16741673188).jpg
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Comments
Ooh one of my very favourite
Ooh one of my very favourite birds. Wolves, ravens and graves. All beautifully Poe-esque. What more can I say?! ::)
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Very good
enjoyed x
best
Lena
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an albino raven. I wonder if
an albino raven. I wonder if it was more of an outcast than black.
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I liked your "plunge" at the
I liked your "plunge" at the line end, and "browse" the sky, linked with eye brows for scowl, that's clever :0)
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one of my favourites too, and
one of my favourites too, and you have done them justice with this gem, thank you
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Hi Rachel,
So many secrets the raven carries, your poem is evocative of the mystery surrounding this enigmatic bird.
Jenny.
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