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Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Sharp Sight

Sharp Sight

The shiver of winter still strums the air.

Amid the grains of rotting snow,

a solitary crow

clutches a storm-torn branch

and breaks off a twig in his beak.

The crow lifts and flaps his blue black wings

rising with this perfect piece

to the top of the tallest fir.

The air vibrates with welcome

caws of raucous joy,

as one is greeted by the other.

They are so high.  I wonder.

Can they see

spring from there?
Words and photo are copyright Carol Steel.


Anonymous said...

I hope they can. g

Rambling Woods said...

beautiful.. michelle

Crafty Green Poet said...

oh that's lovely! I'm amazed by the persistance of the birds, who resolutely are behiaving as though it's spring even though it's so unseasonally cold

Carol Steel said...

Hello g.,
I hope so too. Some days I despair of spring ever arriving.

Carol Steel said...

Thank you Michelle. I hope every day you feel more well and are gaining strength.

Carol Steel said...

Hi Juliet,
I think I heard a robin singing this morning. Perhaps there is hope after all that spring will come. The birds must know. I am so tired of winter and the chilly air.

Jane Tims said...

Hi Carol. I am catching up on reading your posts and reminded of how slowly spring has come to us this year. I love the poem, especially the first line. Crows are so smart and remind us of so many things. I think they deserve to be written about! Jane