That started me thinking - have I written a crow poem? I thought I had, but decided to write a new one anyway. So here is my crow poem, untitled so far.
I welcome comments on the poem, and also ideas for a possible title.
Crow’s mournful cry goes out across the paddock
sheep and wheat ignore the sound
and continue doing what they always do.
I pause and look up, and spot the crow,
alone, alone, alone. Then comes an answering cry -
another crow’s plaintive call rings out -
first crow no longer alone, they strike up a lament
in tandem. I’m reminded of my family inside,
waiting for me to return. There’s no need
for me to call out, they’re there for me,
they’re always there for me.