Ravens
The sky is sharp today, Mother
The trees wave wildly in the wind
but there are no clouds in the sky
to push around.
I thought I saw you walking briskly across a supermarket parking lot,
scarf wrapped tightly around your face
as you leaned into a headwind.
A rogue plastic bag swoops up and surprises you with its clattering.
The rumpled hat you wear holds down your gray hair, but barely.
Ravens float on updrafts, Mother
landing with squawks on the dumpster’s edge.
Peering around to see if anyone is watching
the birds drop down into the darkness to feed.
The x-rays showed an inflammation of the dura mater
how does it heal,
how does anyone heal
hard Mother?
An interesting and well written poem. I enjoyed some of your other writings, too. You have a nice writing style.
love it,
very beautiful perspective,
welcome to Jingle Poetry.
Happy Potluck.
Hi Marbles…hi Jingle! Thank you for stopping by.
Stunning imagery – I got a sense of ravens as the cancer descending upon the Mother's body. The idea that they peer around to see if anyone is looking – kind of like the quiet invasion of disease before it is detected.
So tender and very touching – I get a sense of the insidious effects of isolation and lonliness suddenly perceived. Bittersweet and stark…
I never thought about the "quiet invasion of disease" but am always pleased when a fresh insight is discovered in poetry. Thank you both.
Really liked how the narrator is speaking to Mother.
Enthralled with your site. Fortunately I have an 8 hour red-eye flight tonight so can really sink my teeth in.
Very beautiful poetry. It hurts the heart, yet it heals, as well…