The Black Crow (in answer to Ted Hughes)

Crow flew up into the air
looking, always searching
with a keen eye
roving down to earth from the sky

with wings flapping
under the blazing sun
almost blurring in
their quick movement

and flying from the blinding sun
with paws folded in
but at a time he had to dropp down
like lightning falling from the sky

to find something somewhere
a mouse, a rat or a bigger rabbit
to feed with claws ripping
with blood oozing red under them.

Blacker than the night,
spreading his wings
again he challenged the sky
thinking about being supreme

and that was his undoing
as he flew up as high as eagles do
against bare cliffs to a nest of their young
and faster than light, was pierced, was flung from it

dropping down from the heights
and heard the screaming roar
of a eagle’s triumphant song
just before death ended everything for crow.

[References: Wodwo and Crow (extract) Two legends by Ted Hughes.]

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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