The Crow Knows Where I Am
When the fields unfold into one another
and a buzzard holds up the sky.
I am somewhere but where?
only the crow knows. Sheep take
the day with them and six flying
jackdaws pass their call to each other.
A bobbing flock of redwings hide
their shadows from the sun. The crow
knows where I am.
The fields creep under the hedgerow
thinning the road with each walk.
Then the road is gone and I have nowhere
to go. The crow knows where I am
. . . . . . . .even when I’m gone.
by Gareth Culshaw
Editor’s Note: The personification of landscape and animals in this poem gives it a lyrical sensibility that suits the narrative.
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