Losing it

I sit near a crow and think what it must be like
to have wings, to leave gravity for what it is,
to fly over sea and land and sea again:
it would mean excitement to me, a dream,
but for the bird it seems not out of the ordinary.

We look at each other, creature to creature,
depending both on food and water,
mortal, fragile, and a lot of what we have in pairs:
two eyes, two legs, so much alike we are
in most important matters.

The crow may read my human mind,
and wonders why I don’t use my arms to fly.
I show him how I try, I flutter,
moving arms quickly up and down
with no result.

The crow beside me laughs and flies away,
only to return with two companions.
‘Watch that human,’ I can hear him say.
‘She has wings like dead tree branches.’
Inadequate I stand corrected by some birds.

The noise of a helicopter right above us
suddenly scares them away into the woods
making me feel triumphant
though I know I have lost it today
in more ways than one.



Comments on: "Losing it" (18)

  1. This is excellent, I love your words and expressions!

  2. My comment went AWOL!

    This made me smile – and think. 🙂


    L&H xx

  3. Two things characterise crows:

    1) intelligence

    2) Randomness

    (The same goes for squid)

  4. “…and he tied 146 pigeons to his arms.”
    Comedian, Jonathan Winters

  5. I love perspectives like these which you do with humour and so excellently as always

  6. This is a wonderful poem and reflection, Ina – especially as it comes from the crow’s point of view. Again, there is always great contrast in your poetry – it’s witty but serious too. Very well done! XO

  7. I love this.

    You have a wonderful imagination.

    I talk to birds too, but mostly seagulls 🙂


    • Hi David, thank you very much, so glad to see your comment ! 🙂 Talking to birds is okay, but when they talk back and you understand them, it is time to go easy on sugar perhaps 🙂


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