Crows flew overhead
Cawing for all they were worth
I push the quilt off
My head is splintered
Tea, pills for head, heart and throat
Even my bones ache
I crawled out of bed
I will open the curtains
Perhaps just a crack
I've no grain of will
As I dream of escaping
For I've feet of clay
My life has collapsed
This winter of discontent
For you have left me
The birds are singing
Get up they say, it's fine out
Might give it a whirl
Image found at www.mothergoosesmiles.com
Brilliant, specially the last lione!
ReplyDeleteWhen all seems lost and broken a peak through the curtains is often a reminder to maybe give it another whirl...crows are harbingers of gloom - can we swap them for some robins...
ReplyDeleteI like the hopeful ending!
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful poem with a perfect ending.
ReplyDeleteI really like that last line. Perhaps Brenda has cawed us all into peeking through that curtain and finding the sunlight,
ReplyDeleteElizabeth
This piece moves from despair to hope. The crow is stirring us all!
ReplyDeleteWinter is always a time of despair especially if one is alone. Excellent use of the words.
ReplyDeleteYou've painted a clear picture of the depression that follows loss--and how well the wordle lent itself to that.
ReplyDeleteexcellent! I like how you've put the words together, here.
ReplyDeleteOh such heaviness is the quilt of sadness. Bring that quilt out doors on a sunny day, it may reward you. Thank you for stopping by my place.
ReplyDeleteyes...please give it a whirl.
ReplyDeleteYou gave it a whirl, all right, and what a whirl it is!
ReplyDeleteWhirling with Marge