by Steve Tanham
Wise crows, raven-kin
Driven from your ancient trees
What home will call you now?
—
Where cosy craft
Of power’s secret circle
Convinces gentle folk
That cut and death and burn
Deliver best the clearing tide.
—
Revealing light?
—
Barren gaps and ugly fires
Of healthy wood consume
Both eye and view in sadness
The darker light made clear.
—
Be welcome, now
Among our ash and sycamore
The noble wood of sharing
Noisy dawns we will abide, and smile
When joyous roosting fills the brightening sky.
—
Wise crows, raven-kin
Driven from your ancient trees
This home will call you now.
—
©Copyright Stephen Tanham 2017
That’s a sad sight, Steve x
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It is, Sue x
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Next house to ours, along the old canal path.
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Hope the birds are safe.
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Reblogged this on Sue Vincent's Daily Echo.
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This is a great poem. Tweeted it from Sue’s blog.
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Thank you, Robbie – that’s appreciated.
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Reblogged this on Stuart France.
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Sad to see, humans almost always put their needs first. Great poem to honor the displaced crows, Steve.
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Thank you, Eliza. The damage is the next house along the line of the old canal, so it’s personal!
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I imagine it is
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