Crow, why did you have to strut across the road, swaggering your tail feathers at me, one beady eye twitching?
I only meant to ruffle your skirts, take some of the smug off your bold face—call your bluff
but I was impatient, eager to get home, and didn’t see the scree of gravel on the road
for a blustering fellow, you made such a small thump and crunch under the wheels of the car
I winced, smiled reassuringly at the child in the rear view mirror, his face turned out the window looking for damage
inside, the sinking feeling, the consequence of misplaced emotions embedding in my gut
ever since that moment the bone china jumps out of my hands, slippery as wet soap, and spangles the kitchen floor with a cymbal of sound
milkjugs of seafoam green and eggcups by the dozen—tiny smithereens the lot of them
I want to blame you crow for putting the evil eye on me, make you carry the burden of my guilt
but how ridiculous is that. This morning it was the teapot—my grandmother’s—and I vowed it was the last shard
to unwind a spell you must pick at the knots, teasing with your fingers, like unraveling an old sweater
each knot an undoing, paying back the threads, unlearning you crow and asking forgiveness.
C’est l’animal Totem de ma fille aîné, on le retrouve aussi dans mes sculptures …!!!
And a very powerful one! I’m going to look our for the crow in your work. Thanks for reading Laurent.
Love this.
Really appreciate the comment.
I know it well… and you’ve captured it beautifully.
So kind of you to say so, Cynthia.
This had me fidgeting in my chair it is so good! Somehow nothing can embody memories and consequences in our minds like ravens and crows.
Perhaps its the striking intelligence that seems to emanate from them, or that cocky strut. They certainly reek of an all-knowing smugness. Thanks for the nice compliment, Sunshine.
Hey, hey … there’s no burden in unearned guilt~!
One could (but won’t) almost say that the crow holds all the blame for flying into your car. Suicide, in effect—?
Yet there’s something almost magical about crows. I don’t think we have any in New Zealand, we have to rely on bunnies and possums for our own unearned guilts … but even entirely innocent, it doesn’t stop my undeserved remorse.
I try to stop for them whenever I can, but I will not swerve. Swerve could well be suicide— feathers can be washed off and dents beaten out …
Sorry to hear you don’t have crows. They’re fascinating creatures with a strong communal life. Actually most crows are way too smart to get hit by a car. The crow in the poem obviously had suicidal tendencies.
Spouse and I rented a small cottage on a wee estate at Artrochie, Scotland. In just one brief summer wee bowled thirteen pheasants—they lie in wait until they can’t possibly miss then kamikaze you out of nowhere … 🙂
Skillfully crafted poem. Careful use of line to communicate multiple thoughts and meanings with single lines and line groupings. Strong emotionality without sentimentality. Truly excellent.
High praise indeed. Thank you, Roger.
Oh, you really capture the feeling of guilt that comes from accidentally killing a creature, especially something like a crow. They always seem so human-like in their actions. You can almost hear them thinking.
Thanks, Adele. Crows do seem to show up all over the place, from Aesop’s Fables to Native American tales. It would be interesting to do a study of the crow in cultural myths from around the world.
Wonderful imagery, great poem and how it brought back memories too – mine not a crow but a little rabbit and yes the guilt. Your new header is amazing too!
Thanks, Karina. Glad you like the new header. My daughter Nyssa painted it for me. A talented young woman!
Very talented!
Ahh…crow. Ima make a crow spell ta help…but mine will grind bones, burn feathers, pull claws, and talk crow words backwards to chase away the storm-birds, watch them rise in fear of Storm-Charissa and her lightening brow furrowed at those messengers of madness…
Loved this. Truly.
and the new pic for the blog is perf…right in the oeuvre of some of your gardening type poems
🙂
Crow words backwards–love it! I really like your idea of undoing spells. Think you may have a touch of the good witch in you.
Yup, loving my new header too, thanks to my lovely daughter!
Triple like to this!
Ooh, a gut twisty tale. I’m still feeling all a twitter reading it the second time through. I have a hard time shaking experiences like this off too, but I love how you deftly explained the recipe for relief. Your words, as usual, are magical, Melissa.
I always think of Rex the dino in the first Toy Story movie when my conscience is pricked. “Great, now I have guilt!”
Thank you so much for reading and appreciating, Shelley.