silver snow-lit night
black crow scribes his epitaph
dragging broken wings

For three days, he held his position under the bird feeder, scrappy enough to scare off the squirrels.  Hopping around the yard and cawing like a fish monger, you’d think he was still king.  Last night, I watched him leave his post.  He made the arduous trek to the front field and disappeared.  I’ll remember him.

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21 Comments on “Broken Crow

  1. People seem to take this as a sad story. I don’t really read it that way. He was tough. He took up his spot under a place where he could get food, fought off anyone who got in his face and stood his ground to the end. The word that comes to my mind is not sad, it is valiant.

    • This seems to be a story that brings forward different reactions, and that’s wonderful. For me, if there’s any “sadness” there, it was the poignancy of it. We all have our broken wings. He (she?) was a bad-ass who went out on his own terms, though, and that’s what made it memorable.

  2. A beautiful crow was attempting to fly against the wind on the beach this morning. Keeping just a few feet in the air he was almost stationary as he moved just a few feet forward each time, and then landing again. He let me see his excellent flying skills and exquisite feathers from quite close up. I will remember him, too, now, thanks to your lines. ♥ tomas

    • Tomas, I’m so glad you came by for a story, and gladder still that you stayed to visit and tell me about your crow in the wind. What a fortunate moment, to see him flying stationary like that.

  3. Zen Doe, you remind me that almost all our lives have crows in them! And almost all crows’ lives have people in them! We watch them, hear their caws. They eat our food. Your careful watching prompted me to write about what happened here.

    Crows flew towards the reservoir yesterday. An overcast morning. From a distance I thought they looked small. I could see them black and intent on their destination from the kitchen window. Surprised, I noticed the sound of tangerine peel dropping into the sink.

    • Ah! Thank you, Dan, for bringing me your crows and your pungent tangerine peel. Great story! Thank you.

  4. Zen Doe, The poem is perfect. The prose eloquent. My heart wept. Or like my 12 year old son said the other day “It wrung out the washcloth of my heart.” This is lovingly rendered and faithfully transmitted human emotion. Dang girl. Poetry. Good job.

    • Get that boy of yours to write some country-western songs! That’s outstanding!!!
      Thanks, Alice. I haven’t done a haiku in years. You’re inspiring me! Now, if I could learn to stack ’em like you do…

      • I can’t shut up once I get hiaking, that’s all. Both the kids are very musical. They both write. I will urge this one toward C and W. He has a gift.;)

  5. Imagery evoking emotion from words on a screen. Wow. There’s an immense amount of information conveyed in very few words. A rare talent.

    • Quite a compliment, David. That’s precisely what I aim for. Sometimes I think I’m hitting the mark. Other times, not so much. 😉

  6. This is so beautifully melancholy. I like your imagery though; it’s obvious that this piece of writing was based on a real life event.

    • Patrice, this happened two years ago, and it still feels like last night. Seems important to tell his story. We all have (and are!) stories worthy of the telling. Thank you for stopping by for a read.

      • You’re more than welcome. After reading ‘Broken Crow’, I was in the shower crying, thinking of this crow. So sad and so beautifully written.

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