I heard a crow caw once,
Then twice again.
A grating sound that seems to bounce
As it echoed through the glen.
A somber sound,
Of which I’ve found
Reminded me of troubled times back then.
A time when passion’s race was free
To fly unfettered when
The moment struck and danced so merrily.
Back before it began,
As birds became unknowing talismen.
For what but evil conspired to take away
The passion we once had to sow
When cruelly lost one fateful day T
hat started with the calling of a crow.
Awakening to find
Recesses of her mind
Were twisted into someone I didn’t know.
It’s hard to know what’s locked inside the brain
Invisible until the symptoms show.
Lucidity too difficult to obtain,
Typical reactions become slow,
A poignant pain,
A harsh refrain,
Began the day I heard the calling of the crow.
|Author Notes Just a fictional Poem. I was sitting having my coffee this morning, when I heard a crow caw. Well, off my Muse went. From whence this came, I know not. But I hope you enjoy it.
A septet is a poem with seven lines of any style, form, or meter. For this one I chose a rhyme scheme of: ababccb.
There is a variable meter.