Sonnet to Crow

Sonnet to Crow

He was a god; a demi-god was he.
His shape, earth-bound to me, was but a crow.
There was a part of him that did love me,
and I appeared to him a lovely doe.
Now crow needs crow, god, god, and buck for doe-
and so I watched him choose his final frame.
Pierced, then, I died. My life spun out to woe.
In all these turns of sun I've lived this shame.
Not god, nor buck, but crow -he chose his form;
to peck and scrape instead of leap with me.
He chose to leave me lost, contrite, forlorn.
His fear betrayed him to conformity.
Now I, forever-after, ache for him.
He, trammeled in his field, now old and grim.

 

Reviews

[FR Toscano]

Hi Elizabeth.

Poem reads like reincarnation on high. Has a skipping feel to it that reminded me of a beating heart. A succinct poem but no less effective.

[Alexa Tarvid]

I.. really like this! Though quite sorrowful, the over all masking of the poem is gorgeous. The breaks were well chosen.

Just beautifully written! Great job.

^_^ Alexa