The Crow Speaks
I’m two steps down a forest trail and the crow sounds the alarm from high in the canopy. I stare up in search of the bird that somehow figures me for a threat to every living thing in the woods. He’s there, on a branch, large and satiny black, maybe an ounce or two short of being a raven. And he looks down at me, beak and eyes coordinated in the crow’s most forceful expression in its repertoire. “I know who you are,” it says silently. “I know what you’re doing here. But I’m on high alert. You won’t get away with it.” As the cliché would have it, I’m here to commune with nature. But crows, like everything else here, don’t commune. From birth to death, they’re pledged to their own survival. The crow’s message is clear. This is not where you belong. Go survive elsewhere.
About The Poet
John Grey is an Australian poet and US resident, recently published in New World Writing, City Brink, and Tenth Muse. His latest books, “Subject Matters”,” Between Two Fires” and “Covert” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Hawaii Pacific Review, Amazing Stories, and Cantos.
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Read On
Moved by the crow's warning? Venture deeper. In four additional poems, John explores the liminal spaces where nature meets technology and where solitude meets connection. Through late-night TV reflections, nervous dinner preparations, unflinching self-examination, and the gentle acceptance of love's transience, these verses illuminate the quiet truths we find when we dare to look closely at our modern lives.
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