Mars
Last night I was mobbed by crows,
felt like Tippi Hedren, less lovely though,
more lost. Today puddles will join together
and the world will be recast in water,
beautiful, bottomless, with a mirror view
of small clouds and aching blue.
In the meantime, I will try and wear you down
with substandard verse, look down on the town
from this long window, see wet tar
streaming all the way to Mars.
4 comments:
First thing that's made me smile about the weather.
What is it with crows lately? I've never seen as many as I have this year!
Which is why your poem made me smile, as I recently made a comment about Hitchcock setting up behind my office building to do a re-make of "The Birds". There's 5 acres out back and it was covered with crows.
Didn't help that I'd been reading Stephen King, either.
Thanks for making rain sound...poetic. ;)
Sorry you're under siege from the weather but glad its warming the poetic cockles.
Do like the world recast in water. Seemed that way yesterday afternoon, a smoking cloud of water over Bogrie. The hens thought it was night and went to bed early.
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