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Crow
by
Carol Amato


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So close above my head

it flies

heard before seen

the flap flap flap

of air pushed and whooshed

through the length and breadth

of wide wild wings.

 

Had I known ahead

I might have reached up in time

to touch its scurrilous breast

careful not to ruffle those sleek

slippery feathers.

 

Ahead it perches on a lone

scruffy pine above the beach.

It settles its haughty wings then

meets my lifted gaze

those brilliant charcoal eyes staring,

impenetrable,

promising some dark joy

delighted with its specter of

foreboding.

 

© by Carol Amato.
Used here with the author’s permission.

 


Carol Amato says poetry has allowed her to assume many lives—to date, a much-longed-for job as a waitress, a slightly mean-spirited child, an escape artist seeking to find herself, an adventurer soaring with raptors, and more. Carol’s realities include being a language-learning specialist, a natural science educator, and the author of 11 books for Barron’s Educational Series and Backyard Pets, Nature Activities Close to Home, published by John Wiley & Sons. Carol, who lives in Boston and Cape Cod, considers herself fortunate to have both an active imagination and enough reality to survive.

    



Post New Comment:
Lori Levy:
The crow really comes alive in this poem.
Posted 05/29/2017 12:19 AM
jtmilford:
Your poem described perfectly the feeling of seeing a crow. "Delighted with its specter of foreboding." Great!
Posted 05/28/2017 09:36 PM
KevinArnold:
Fine poem. Thanks.
Posted 05/28/2017 07:24 AM


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