I am crow
perched high

I am crow
loudly proclaiming
righteously incensed
a warning

I am crow
one-eyed, head-cocked
mystery, confronting
pompous pretense

I am crow
foolishly singular
ignorantly insulting
I eat myself.

(Image mine)

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

14 thoughts on “Crow”

  1. I love crows and the mystery that surrounds them. I’ve mentioned crows in several of my poems. They see all and know all and I wonder if they keep secrets. Stunning poem and image, VJ

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  2. Having just released a novel where my protagonist claims, “I am the crow,” I read this post with close attention. My protagonist also eats herself. How crazy is that? And yet here you are … writing the exact same sentiments. This crow isn’t as lonely as she thought. Thanks!

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