by Clare L Martin

I am kept by crows.
They beckon out of sleep,

calling come, come
be transformed.

line up in dreams,

punctuating visions.
Such an omen inspires.

A crow told me:

Let me be a whorl of darkness—
Let me be a fist in the sun.

The crow on the wire
is a keeper of silence.

What a crow gathers
becomes soot and nothing more.

I am in the night. I am in it
as though it cloaks me–

I am winged
and feathered like the crow.

Sheer, yet impenetrable,
rising on wind.

-refers from the word “feathered” in Pris Campbell’s poem Daily Bread

  1. I really like this poem, Claire! And “Haunted” is a great title for such a haunting poem! Thank you.

  2. Rosalyn Marhatta

    I am pulled into the poem right away and really like the ride you’re taking me on.

  3. What an opening line! Followed by one great line after another . . .crow by crow. Thank you, Claire!

  4. Oh, gosh, this is gorgeous! I particularly love the lines: The crow on the wire / is a keeper of silence.

  5. There is a crow that visits me every day outside my office window, and a stuffed one on my bookshelf. I’ll think of this poem when I see them and think “sheer, yet impenetrable.”

  6. Ah, this is a sweet write, and also the reciting on the tube, loved the poem, thank you, much appreciated…

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  1. Pingback: “Haunted” @ Referential Magazine « Orphans of Dark and Rain

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