Monday, November 23, 2015

Memory Farmers (#Poetry Monday *)

Seeing crows up close always startles.
I forget how large they really are.
Small feathered gargantuans.

Usually they’re up high
dotting the blue sky,
bombing the distant earth
with enormous caws.

Or out over a cornfield
circling in the distance,
sailing on the blue horizon,
specks of smaller noise.

Or in cartoons as clever,
cunning, heckling characters,
cutting shenanigans,
playing others for the fool.

Or as black Vs with curved edges
in simple chalk drawings or crayon
scratchings, plain silent symbols
stripped of their reality.

But in truth they are ravenous
dark farmers of memory
plowing the infinite parcels of sky
cowling the air above us with
piercing cries calling us
to recall, recall, recall.








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* It's PoMo! To learn about PoMo (POetry MOnday), click here and then scroll down. 

Hearing crows cawing overhead seems most associated with the fall and melancholy. 
Do you agree? Our are they more a summer experience for you? What kind of mood is created when you hear geese above you in the evening sky? Feel free to share your thoughts and impressions in the comments.

This poem is included in this collection:

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