Crow Poems - Poems about Crow

"We must say, goodbye to winter but do not be sad. It will come back again next year with a big smile and plenty of snow. Now we welcome Spring to enjoy." By Poet Winter can be very cold, the wind will sing and be very bold. The ground is covered with fluffy snow, to play in as the...

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Fifty years ago...the age of self-reflection Hollow crumbs, shadows of proud vestiges As minneapolis' jim crow vanished slowly, Painfully, no longer admired at country club Cocktail parties celebrating ribbon-cuttings My family was inside and unaware of history Working class achievement, First deli in marble edifice To corporate greed, Connecting the longest Minneapolis Skyway North to Washington Ave. Dallas barons, puppet-masters Guilding their empire on...

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Fat crow eats early Frantic beak tears at the spoil No other birds eat ...

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Crazy crow flew in loops and whorls Flying pattern as scalloped as mama’s curls Wee witch said he’s the familiar for me Invited him to sup on blueberry afternoon tea Crazy crow flew in the window, around the kitchen twice The cat said “he looks marvelous, I think he’s nice.” She truly thought he looked plump and tasty too. When the crow...

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Three shiny-loving crows found a perch, and plunked their talons down Two had landed on a rusty antique pick-up truck – Tom and Town. Their cousin Lee had found a place to sit on a telephone pole. Bragging, laughing and sharing stories was their goal. Their stories were bawdy, and funny, fowl-like and fine. By the time the sun began...

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eyes closed we listen koel sings nodes glisten all’s well but then jarring notes mar zen ripples rise stifling bliss do nothing notice this who within so stumbled bend low we’re humbled fickle fate tests resolve through struggles we evolve poised presence posits peace seeing thus angst decrease bliss again we rebound walking on holy ground...

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A clever young crow from Belize Collected old buttons with ease. It hoarded its stash In a bucket of trash, And sold them for shiny gold cheese. ...

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The Crow (A lone voice whispers) No happiness for me and my best friend Tony the pony today For we lost our beloved muse At 2 pm One minute she was in full view Perched on our old Oak tree Watching us with beady black eyes like a true devotee Then just like the uptake in poetry In the 21st Century By the...

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crow hungry for god holds light in mouth flies into self alone he consumes his death and is in darkness reborn beating his wings to fire his eyes rings of oil hold the madness in deep black iron pulling stars through flesh crying: ‘I am memory! the sea, I flow in me I fly in you the crow!’ ...

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perched upon the gallows beam bathed in the hush of dying light the crow waits, black as the last thought before the noose tightens his voice is gravel and omen a riddle carved in bone a cackle that cracks the silence and lingers long after dusk he has seen kings fall, lovers weep, liars burn his wings are stitched with sorrows his beak, a blade for...

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Head twitching, black eye gleaming, reflecting moonlight, He dreams of hoarding that great shiny orb. Tucking it in with his precious treasures inside the Rowan tree to feast his eyes upon... his alone. Perhaps he will take a small bite so his charcoal feathers shoot out indigo moon beams and all the creatures will gaze at...

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Two angry crows Perched high in a tree Covered in snow Dancing the breeze Broken branches sway And decrepit leaves Fall A moment in time Without resolve Leaning in to see A quarrel of greed A nut, perhaps a seed Stolen in need Three angry crows Perched high in a tree I glanced for a moment Laughed And walked away Reaching the house The arguing fades Perhaps, a meeting of the minds But, who's to...

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in the hush of dawn a crow gives a cry a shadow of death a whisper of why his call resounds through the desolate streets perched on a branch where the living he meets his black eyes pierce through the veil of fear for his voice foretells the end is near another soul to the darkness will glide to leave the earth...

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'Creak creak' says The old rocking chair On a tiny old wooden porch 'Aawk aawk' says The old crow as it Flies steadily to the north 'Cock-a-doodle-do' says The red rooster as he clucks The new day in at half past four Arise! Coffee's brewing eggs and bacon on the stove Hurry! Grab your baskets Time for pickin' in the grove Bring your pail out to the barn Milk...

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Crows come And crows go But Arthur always was. For years the lofty oak had been His look-out every day And soon as Mother chucked the scraps His shiny eyes Would spot the crumbs From eighty yards away. No craftier crow In all the land Than Arthur black and strong And wise more wise Than all magpies He would not fly straight down. Although he’d had So many scraps From...

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