Poetry About Crows

Crows are the sentinels of the sky, draped in the velvet of midnight and possessed of a wisdom that predates the written word. These poems explore the stark beauty of the crow - the trickster, the scavenger, and the loyal companion of the wind.

With their raspy calls and keen eyes, crows remind us of the mysteries that lurk in the suburban trees and the wild forests alike. They are the poets of the threshold, comfortable in the spaces between life and death.

Featured Poems

The Obsidian Eye

The uncanny intelligence of the urban crow.

He sits upon the telephone wire, a sharp silhouette against the bruised sunset, counting the cars that pass below with the patience of a tax collector.

He knows which lid is loose, which hand holds the crust of silver bread, which tree holds the secret of the coming storm.

He does not sing for our pleasure; his voice is a tectonic shift of bone, a reminder that the earth has its own harsh music.

- Silas Vance

The Parlay

A meeting of crows in the winter morning.

In the skeletal arms of the winter oak, they gather like a congregation of judges, huddled in their high-collared coats of jet and oil-slick.

Their conversation is a series of gears grinding against the cold air, deciding the fate of the frozen field and the slow, white patience of the snow.

When they rise, they are a single cloth torn into a thousand dark rags, flapping against the pale throat of the January sky.

- Clara Holm

Thief of Echoes

The crow as a collector of sounds and memories.

He has a silver tongue in a black mouth, mimicking the creak of the gate and the whistle of a man long since gone to seed.

He hoards the sounds of the world like he hoards the shiny bits of foil, tucking them into the hollows of the hemlock trees.

- Julian Thorne

Classic Voices

The Twa Corbies

by Traditional (15th Century)

A classic Scottish ballad featuring two crows discussing a fallen knight, highlighting the unsentimental reality of nature.

As I was walking all alane, I heard twa corbies making a mane; The tane unto the t'other say, 'Where sall we gang and dine to-day?'

'Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane, And I'll pike out his bonny blue een; Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair We'll theek our nest when it grows bare.'

Dust of Snow

by Robert Frost (1923)

A tiny but powerful poem about how a chance encounter with a crow can change one's perspective.

The way a crow Shook down on me The dust of snow From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart A change of mood And saved some part Of a day I had rued.

Micro Verses

A murder of crows is just a congregation of the wise.

- Elias Thorne

Black wings carving shadows into the morning light.

- Anonymous

The crow knows the weight of the sky by the strength of his own caw.

- Maren Grey

Midnight feathers catching the glint of a stolen sun.

- Julian Thorne

Deeper Explorations

Myth and Legend

Crows as messengers and omens across cultures.

The Messenger's Toll

In the North, he carried the news of the gods to the ears of men. In the East, he was the sun caught in a cage of feathers.

Here, he is just a bird, yet why do we silence ourselves when he flies low over the roof?

- Soren K. Aaby

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