Friday Poetry Blogging

Growing up on a farm, I thought a lot about how and whether we should communicate with animals. What would we tell the cow being led to slaughter? What would we learn from the chickens? Why are the geese making that infernal din

Crows
by Judith Barrington

Crows startle the clouds
with grievances never resolved
and warnings blurted into thin air.

Once in a while, the cries of all those who tried to survive
pour from the funnels of their throats.
No wonder we never really listen.

Like most animals, crows tell the truth:
working hard to penetrate our tiny tubular ears,
they cackle on telephone lines while we watch TV.

Once I did listen to a crow, but even when I had heard
his whole story, there was nothing I could do.
Next, I thought, I'd have to listen to squirrels and coyotes.

I like to think I deal with my share of rotten truths
but I couldn't bear to kneel down in damp grass
and listen to the hedgehog or the mole.

(Via Language Log, from the "Writer's Almanac" with Garrison Keillor.)