Crow, feeling his brain slip,
Finds his every feather the fossil of a murder.
Who murdered all these?
These living dead, that root in his nerves and his blood
Till he is visibly black?
How can he fly from his feathers?
And why have they homed on him?
Is he the archive of their accusations?
Or their ghostly purpose, their pining vengeance?
Or their unforgiven prisoner?
He cannot be forgiven.
His prison is the earth.
Clothed in his conviction,
Trying to remember his crimes
Heavily he flies.
| Best Poems | Short Poems
Email Poem |
Top Ted Hughes Poems
Analysis and Comments on Crows Nerve Fails
Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Crows Nerve Fails here.