Friday, November 05, 2010


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.


Titus said...

First thing that's made me smile about the weather.

hope said...

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. ;)

Frances said...

Sorry you're under siege from the weather but glad its warming the poetic cockles.

Jean Atkin said...

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.