an aftersome poem
Sunnilicious' NaPoWriMo, April 2021
:
I Am The Raven
by sunnilicious
Look
Ravens in the afternoon sky
The sky is blue, Blue with puffy cotton clouds
And a flock of jet black ravens flies above
They cackle closer
Breaking into a few too many groups
I walk closer
Busily they peck at acorns
Fallen acorns
From a sturdy set of old oak trees
Three vicious ravens circle above me
Their yakety-yak is grows louder
They swoop and dodge
Crisscrossing all around me
I throw myself to the ground for safety
Two ravens beam themselves straight up
To perch on the tree
And watch
Watch me grow into confusion
As I am pecked at
And rudely beaked
Beaked into a mild concussion
A postman in his jeep loudly honks
All three ravens fly into unison
Unison into an arrow
Into the sky
Around the corner
And out of sight
The postman takes a bite of his sandwich
Staring at me
Another postal worker pulls up
They start talking
They talk about me
I care because I would like to know
I listen
I could not think
I could use some help
My hands felt a wet dent
There is a dent
A bloody dent in back of my head
I can not speak
A flood of tears stream down
I can not remember the next few days
I can not remember the past few days
In the mirror
The wickest raven is weaving into my face
And the raven guffaws in echo
Echoes from out of the radio
As the scent of bread pops from the toaster
Author Notes
NaPoWriMo April 2021, Day 27 - Write a poem inspired by an entry from the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. I wrote my recollection of being becked by a raven based upon the given dictionary word aftersome.
aftersome
adj. astonished to think back on the bizarre sequence of accidents that brought you to where you are today as if you spent years bouncing down a Plinko pegboard, passing through a million harmless decision points, any one of which might have changed everything which makes your long and winding path feel fated from the start, yet so unlikely as to be virtually impossible.
NOTE: This poem was based on a true event that transpired in my life in 2013. It was a dizzy and painful experience. I don't like crows and ravens anymore. They are vicious birds.
REFERENCES:
1) National Poetry Writing Month April 2021, Day 27 - https://www.napowrimo.net/
2) Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows - https://www.dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com/
3) Rhyme Zone - https://www.rhymezone.com/
