Very, very strong. The color is so vivid, even though it’s grays and blacks. I love the idea of mistaking the crow for an umbrella. I can really see the brokenness and the bones.
“lying there as nobody’s litter” won me. i’ve an almost intimate relationship with crows. I’ve seen so many dead, in various states of decomposition, that I am no longer surprised. Your poem reads smoothly and effectively. You took me back to the first time I found a dead crow with your phrase… “skeletal black umbrella” and your “intimation of mortality” brilliant indeed!
Very, very strong. The color is so vivid, even though it’s grays and blacks. I love the idea of mistaking the crow for an umbrella. I can really see the brokenness and the bones.
def a dead bird in the gutter is something to draw the thoughts brian…so in the end you are the goon? smiles….it would have caught me too…
Lots of great lines in here. Lying there as nobody’s litter, dropping mid flight, mid life to the grey – great
Dark, cold . . . a stark vision of our fear of death. I really like this one.
“dropped mid-flight, / mid-life” … it definitely seems as though it has trapped you with thoughts of your own mortality.
such an interesting picture you present in the opening.
Clever crow…in life as in death…sending you a message…we are all on borrowed time. Fine work, Brian.
“lying there as nobody’s litter” won me. i’ve an almost intimate relationship with crows. I’ve seen so many dead, in various states of decomposition, that I am no longer surprised. Your poem reads smoothly and effectively. You took me back to the first time I found a dead crow with your phrase… “skeletal black umbrella” and your “intimation of mortality” brilliant indeed!
Dead bird are always a bit of a shock aren’t they… Nicely nasty images in this poem.
loved “gutterside” and “intimation of mortality”