Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, CROWS, by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE


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CROWS, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Earth is raw with this one note
Last Line: Starts for a moment from its dust.
Subject(s): Birds; Crows; Earth; World


Earth is raw with this one note,
This tattered making of a song,
Narrowed down to a crow's throat,
Above the willow-trees that throng

The crooking field from end to end.
Fixed as the sun, the grave, this sound;
Of what the weather has to spend
As much a part as sky or ground.

The primal yellow of that flower,
The tansy making August plain;
And the stored wildness of this hour
It sucks up like a bitter rain.

Miss it we would, were it not here,
Simple as water, rough as spring,
It hurls us at the point of spear,
Back to some naked, early thing.

Listen now. As with a hoof
It stamps an image on the gust;
Chimney by chimney a lost roof
Starts for a moment from its dust.





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