Crows, Five Months After 9.11, Reread One Month After 7.7. - Poem by Linda Hepner
Crows, five months after 9.11
Bad press, that’s what we got, bad press,
Caught by our color, black we are, caught caught,
Betrayed by our feathers’ murky, inky gloss…
So black we are! Bad press! Bad press!
Those beady eyes and beaks of ruffled
Mockingbirds and tawdry jays,
With fickle mates and seasonal calls
Have no respect for us, their betters!
Claws, claws and jabbing beaks good only for
Small grain and grubs,
But we, we love for life, true love like doves,
We soar in flight like hawks like hawks,
We fly in packs like running wolves,
We sit for Pow wows like our Northern worshippers,
Yet stoned we are, and cursed and blamed;
Raucous they call us,
Omens, famine, death… Unfair! Unfair!
You clothed ones down below!
Look up, behold!
We mighty ones! Our pitchy hue
Encloses stout hearts,
Long memories, so when you come with beaks and sticks
We rise, majestic, noblesse oblige -
With cause, with cause.
Comments about Crows, Five Months After 9.11, Reread One Month After 7.7. by Linda Hepner
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda
- TelevisionRoald Dahl