Friday, September 30, 2011

Raven's delight

I had promised to bring back more of my raven poems. Here is one. I thought of it this morning, as I met up with some locals-- human and otherwise-- on my way into work at ravenrise, that slip of pale sky just before dawn.

Raven's delight

The angry flight of birds blacken
the late-morning dawn, feathers crisp with frosty breath
an arrow painted by the streak
and shriek of the hollow-boned ones, straight up
and across town to the place
where the orange berries sit in iced clumps, bitter and dry
for their midwinter flesh to be torn
in clumps and scattered, ravens’ delight

Just one man, coat puffed-up blue
jeans frozen stiff, a streak of vomit spittle running down
mouth‘s craggy corner, waterfall or avalanche
caught by yesterday’s frozen night
tongue sore, head throbbing
with the racket of those damned birds
up and around this handy snow bank, this of all places
why can’t they go cuss up their mess
somewhere else, must get up and find me a drink

Rachel Westfall
December 21, 2009

10 comments:

christopher said...

I bet you know the other side a little better. I know both sides of this one. Thanks for the nudge. Loving you.

Conflicted

Why must you be so
the way you are, so angry
with me as if I
was the stone culprit
in this messy bog we have?
I don't feel I do
as you now accuse.
Your beady raven eye is
killing me as if
knocking back a drink
was a damn capital crime
and I should die now.

RachelW said...

I don't want to think about you being on the other side, Christopher. I don't like seeing anyone there.

christopher said...

Rachel when I said you knew the other side a little better, I meant you knew the sober side of the conflict of course, but I think you knew that. It's just that I see ambiguity in my comment now.

RachelW said...

I thought you meant I knew the raven side better. Hahaha ;-)

RachelW said...

Going neutral

I would feed you dinner, child.

A feast fit for a king.

When you stumbled in
with vomit on your sweater, eyes glazed
and a red welt
quickly rising on your cheekbone,

my heart turned upside down.

To the table, come.

Pull out a chair, sit.

Here is the linen,
the cutlery, the shuffling
pacing order of the kitchen,

steam called from a plate
freshly loaded
with such hearty delights.

Rob-bear said...

Where Ravens gather,
Bears are known to come.
It is the wont of Bears,
I think,
to follow the trail
blazed by the dark knights
of the air.
We,
being bigger than they,
usually get what we want,
but normally leave some
for them,
too.
Everybody has to eat.

RachelW said...

Raven laughs at bear's antics. Raven will follow bear, just to see what she will do next. There will surely be some rewards later, too; some good feasting.

Rob-bear said...

Well, yes, there are several points of view on this, aren't there.

erin said...

you (and the ravens) are very clean writing this one, the black crisp against the white, until the man hobbles in and messes it up with his filthy stream.

xo
erin

RachelW said...

Good to see you, Erin. And yes, he does, doesn't he?