Notes About The Poem
Sketch Crow in Rowan Tree
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The Moon in the Rowan Tree
Head twitching,
black eye gleaming, reflecting moonlight,
He dreams of hoarding that great shiny orb.
Tucking it in with his precious treasures
inside the Rowan tree to feast his eyes upon... his alone.
Perhaps he will take a small bite
so his charcoal feathers shoot out indigo moon beams and all the creatures will gaze at him in admiration
as they do the night sky.
He tucks his beak under a wing, and turns a quick circle,
his way of smiling with excitement.
Then noticing movement under his perch, he stills,
one marble eye to the ground.
A lone wolf lurks, turning circles before standing
to gaze at the full moon, so large in the speckled night sky.
All of the night sounds seem to quiet,
recognizing the predator scent, old coppery blood and sinew, on the wind.
He does not like the way the wolf is looking at his moon.
He hops once on his branch and lets loose an angry, "caw!", to warn the wolf away.
Spreading his long sleek wings to show the wolf how big and frightening he is, he once again yells,"mine!"
The unaffected wolf lazily turns only his eyes upward to the exuberant crow, not stirring another muscle.
Crows are such childish thieves, he thinks,
everyone knows
the moon belongs to me.
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