Why crows?
Loud enough to startle you when you're walking across the yard. Black enough to leave their imprint on the sky. I love to see them menacing their way across the frozen grass. Or sitting so high on a branch, screaming to the heavens.
I wrote this poem:
What Crow Know
Crow watch- wonder
how we do
without wings, pale things
ground-bound, so down
Up
sail Crow
in blackness, forgetting
limp limbs- thin lips
which no can crow or-
Caw!
Crow fly fast.
A blot of ink circle my
sun- my blue- and more
amass, a murder of
Crow-
So bead eyes in tree,
what see- what see-
me? growing slow
caw!
Crow know
Crow go.
go.
I read this poem today and realized I wrote it two years ago when I was diagnosed with breast cancer. But I was lucky.
As a matter of fact, I got my mammogram results today-- and everything's okay. I even have a poem.
I want to dedicate this to all the many women who are dealing with or have dealt with breast cancer. Please share your story. Do a painting, write in your journal, do a drawing. Or write a poem. And imagine how great it will feel to look back years later and see what you made.
