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Crow’s Fall December 2, 2009

Posted by The Typist in poem, Poetry, Toulouse Street.
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So it’s Wednesday and I’ve nothing much to say so why not another Crow poem on One Eyed Jack‘s day.

raven_passion
Painting Raven Passion from The Sacred Crow Treasure Box

Crow’s Fall
By Ted Hughes

When Crow was white he decided the sun was too white.
He decided it glared much too whitely.
He decided to attack it and defeat it.

He got his strength flush and in full glitter.
He clawed and fluffed his rage up.
He aimed his beak direct at the sun’s centre.

He laughed himself to the centre of himself

And attacked.

At his battle cry trees grew suddenly old,
Shadows flattened.

But the sun brightened-
It brightened, and Crow returned charred black.

He opened his mouth but what came out was charred black.

“Up there,” he managed,
“Where white is black and black is white, I won.”

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