Thursday, May 30, 2013



A murder of crows woke me this morning. I heard them in the back of my dream mind and listened until they pecked at the back door. When I got up and opened the door, they massed in a tree and I stood there in a black slip, my shoulders bare, my ears filled. I might have sprouted wings and flew off, over the hedge, over the tree where they perched on their crow legs. Shush, I said, Shush. You'll drive me to murder. Finally, back in bed there was silence, and I drifted, the bed a boat. At some point the murder flew off, the air was again silent, the sun rose

 You need a shotgun, he texted me.

Shine like a sunflower.
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7 comments:

  1. 37paddingtonMay 30, 2013 at 7:56 AM

    you are an extraordinary poet. you leave me with my mouth gaping open every time.

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  2. Ms. MoonMay 30, 2013 at 9:34 AM

    What Angella said.

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  3. karioMay 30, 2013 at 10:18 AM

    I love these flights of fancy. Thank you.

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  4. Kathleen ScottMay 30, 2013 at 10:33 AM

    That is SO fine, Elizabeth! I absolutely love the images left in my mind from your words. And that you know a gaggle of crows is called a murder.

    I bet you could write a great murder mystery where the dead body was a miserly insurance exec and the suspect a mother caring for a disabled child. Maybe the detectives would be a group of friends. Along the way you could sew in the idiocies of the healthcare system and the stupid things you've coped with/been told. Would be a good movie too.

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  5. Vesuvius At HomeMay 30, 2013 at 3:54 PM

    I love the one-two punch of the last two lines.

    I have those Papaya muses images all over my house. My favorite has the Eleanor Roosevelt quote.

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  6. Denise Emanuel ClemenJune 2, 2013 at 8:03 AM

    If that were a short story, I'd keep reading.

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  7. Marylinn KellyAugust 31, 2015 at 9:32 AM

    Thought for today: shine like a sunflower. Why ever not? Love you. xo

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