Categories
poetry

On The Verge Of Change

 

crows

And, when the time comes to let it go,

let it go,

Mary Oliver

 

My story begins

and continues in the song of crows.

Their  call awakens., alerts me

to the sky and light. How they glide

on the desert wind, their iridescent wings

becoming  ribs, buoyed

by a breath of belonging.

 

Despite the exit of  old dreams, an identity

fallen away  like a stained

and wrinkled mask,

I ‘m here in the hush

of winter and paling sun,  a long

expanse of  open fields and air, the stray

kindling of  weed and whisper. A place

where birds defy boundaries

and bind me with a shadow’s mercy

to each one of them.

 

4 replies on “On The Verge Of Change”

The spirit of poetry pervades this piece, and the illustration is excellent. The crows have clearly borne your imagination aloft this day.

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Wendy,

A fine farewell to a dedicated writer.

” A place

where birds defy boundaries

and bind me with a shadow’s mercy

to each one of them.”

The language creates a hold on this reader.
I am entranced by the voice and the scene.

Sarah

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Dear Michael, Sarah and Craig

Your kind words and impressions regarding this poem are so deeply appreciated! Thank you all for always taking an interest in my work, it means so much!!

My best to everyone,
Wendy

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