I don’t know what it is about Robert Frost’s “Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Eve,” but something in the DNA of that poem begs me to find ways to ape it. This isn’t the first time that and idea and Frost’s meter have come together in my mind, and probably won’t be the last.
As for subject matter, I have this thing about crows. Not that I like them, but that they constantly appear whenever there’s something major looming on the horizon. A deadline, a contest, a major trip, there they are. I travel to other cities, they follow me. It isn’t paranoia. Really. Ask my family.
Running Through the Park on an Autumn’s Eve
Outside my house a giant crow
Torments me everywhere I go.
It does not seem to matter where
And why he does this, I don’t know.
He gives a “caw” each time he lands
As if to verify our plans.
Alone outside, a public park
A breeze kicks up the playground sands.
I dart across from tree to tree
In hope the crow will let me be.
He merely circles overhead
And laughs at my attempts to flee.
An empty park, the sun has set
And chores at home I can’t forget.
Some day I’ll give that crow the slip,
Some day I’ll give that crow the slip.
This week’s Poetry Friday round-up is hosted by Elaine Magliaro at Wild Rose Reader. Check it out. As the kids say, it’s all good.