Crows Calling At Night
The days and nights become interchangeable
as clouds transition from grey to dark grey
It seems an eternity since she saw him
Fondly remembering the shared laughter
The developing closeness and intimacy
Feelings that had been an infrequent visitor
in a solitary existence had sparked her into life
Now, with him gone, the monotony has returned
The humdrum life of loneliness she wore like a drab cloak
The only sound she hears is the squawking of crows
Sitting as black robe-like mourners in the trees
Hunched is groups, cawing empathies for her loss
Her only activity, the blanket she had promised him
The endless evening hours are now filled
with the under and over movement of the shuttle
as she weaves the brightly colored threads growing with each turn
Making it with love for her paramour who may or may not return
The crows cry out, feeling her pain as she weeps into the yarn
Copyright © 2021 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved
Laura Bloomsbury is hosting D'Verse Poets tonight. She has
prompted us to choose one of five poems she shared that were
translated from the original Chinese and to reinterpret it
in out own style, keeping the original title.
I chose the following:
Crows calling at Night ~ Li bai
“Yellow clouds beside the walls; crows roosting near.
Flying back, they caw, caw; calling in the boughs.
In the loom she weaves brocade, the Qin river girl.
Made of emerald yarn like mist, the window hides her words.
She stops the shuttle, sorrowful, and thinks of the distant man.
She stays alone in the lonely room, her tears just like the rain.“
Photo by Mahdi Dastmard on Unsplash