Knowing The Crows

Gold cherry
Poem of the week

By Angusfolklore

Sat, 03 Sep 2022
  • 1852 reads
11 comments
 

This fondness for crows goes beyond knowing.

While others prettify their minds

at the songbird’s solo, I found you

counting the croaks as if each rasp betokened

shaken bones that can foretell or break the future.

 

Corbie, Hoodie, Raven king, black cap bird in a

hurricane over contours that mock the ragged wind.

The beginning of the night comes on such wings,

an uncomforting coronach to keep bairns from sleep.

 

See them freestyle over the broken hillfort,

knowing their generation have been there, sentinel,

since the tribesmen held and venerated their company,

caustic cosmic jesters making eternal comment on the poor ways

of men who have come and gone without lament.

Torn troubadours, a voice that other birds fear,

whose nightless songs cannot wish away

the coal black truth.

Certificate U
Poem

Comments

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

A wonderful dramatic poem. I too love crows, they are masters of the sky and protectors of their domain. I also love how you describe their call. 

I certainly got a striking impression from that second stanza, it was edgys and stirring. 

Great poem to read aloud.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by Angusfolklore on

Thanks, Jenny.

 

Submitted by rjnewlyn on

This is our Facebook and Twitter Pick of the Day! Please share/retweet if you like it

Picture Credit: https://wordpress.org/openverse/image/e8c87931-f70e-4024-9e50-2c55abb8b5e1

(Angus – the picture has been added for publicity purposes. Please feel free to change or remove.)

 

 

Submitted by Starfish Girl on

Hi Angus

A wonderful description of these lovely, intelligent creatures. You can almost undestand why ancient people feared them. I think that they are such great birds.

Lindy

Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on

That's a wonderful picture to go with an equally wonderful poem. I have some crows and jackdaws who visit my garden and they're so clever - they also have squeaky little voices when not cawing, which makes me laugh. thanks for this angus!

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

Really enjoyed this, specially since moving to Scotland, how big a part of the sky corvids are here "the beginning of the night comes on such wings" resonated so much with me, the streams of rooks heading away to the stand of tallest trees outside town, stragglers squawking "wait for me" leaders shouting "hurry up!". and the swirls of raucous jackdaws like pixellated darkness at dusk in town, seeming to rise up from the roof slates. And the calm, soft menace of ravens calling to each other like a conversation of power in the woods, swooping on wide wings like a threat or reassurance. I always think of seagulls being the timeless watchers here, from hill fort time till now, but they are the bright, white side, corvids the dark. Just brilliant, beautiful poem

 

Submitted by Ed Crane on

We have Jackdaws and Magpies in the garden. I like to watch the way the Jackdaws appear to respect the Maggies. The local cats so often the butt of the Magpies' jokes.

When I lived in East Anglia it was great to see the Rooks in packs heading to the roosting sites at dusk, Easily visible for several miles as they crossed the flat land often silloutted against a pinkish sky

Golden Cherries well earned!

 

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

We have a rookery just close to our garden end, and the springs get so raucous while they're feeding the young. Sudden silence as night falls. And suddenly realising the youngsters have fledged and all is quiet, not just being filtered out of my head!
But I do get excited when we see the recognisable choughs when we visit the coastal path down west, red beaks, red legs. That photo reminded me of them for I wrote a poem once when we saw a row of them sitting on a fence, and I felt so 'chuffed' to get a photo! Rhiannon

 

Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on

This is our Poem of the Week - Congratulations!

 

Submitted by Ray Schaufeld on

I like your poem, Angus Folklore. The phrase 'caustic, cosmic, jesters seems to me to touch on something that is real.

I was watching the crows at a rail station the other day, while I was waiting for my train. They were right in the centre of it all, in between the tracks.

Submitted by agnosticnun on

Captures corvids quite well, the wildness, scavenger beauty. 

Kristi