Crows Poem by Ray Mather

It wasn’t long after my dad was dead
That I heard the first flutter of birds in my head
They began as dark distant shapes in the sky
And I could hardly hear their black crow cry
But lately I’ve noticed they’ve begun to roost
And I shake with the anxiety that they’ve produced
They seem dark portents of a fearsome future
Deep cuts in my heart with their beaks as the suture
They tell me life is short and no-one survives
That we have to remove the pettiness in our lives
All that stupid, stupid career-driven badness
Expending our energy and time on such madness
Blindly making important that daily treadmill
Instead of embracing all those things that thrill
The loves of our lives, our families and friends
I must get the balance right before my life ends.


(2011)