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~ Non-Norse Poetry by Others ~

 

When the Crows Came

I remember the day
when I was young
when the crows came
and stole all my magic

They left me hollow dreams
and strange signs
of what I was supposed to want
and I, being young,
could not tell the difference

I could turn sticks to swords
and the still air
into the beating of a thousand drums

I could tell right from wrong
and banish all shades of gray
to the twisting coal slumped shadows

I knew how to hide from monsters
and could speak kingly praise
in the noble language of beasts

My ears ever noticed
when the thunder ceased to sing
my fingers thumbing the hollow dreams
trying to make them speak

And now I am older
surrounded by knobby sticks
and standing in the cold still air
Remembering the day when the crows came
and stole all my magic

Matthias Wilson 2011

 

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