Down lies a still smouldering crow,
his sullen wings saturated
with fast-drying wines.
The rouged soils rupture and burst
into bloom. The rotting welts
turn green with age.
Now petal spill
like blood from the buds
The wilting, creasing constellation.
Down lies a smouldering crow.
He wears his mother’s
face now, as he rests, at last,
amongst the flowers without a
casket
to separate.
Now feathers spill
from hollow bone, and cold
eyes widen, blind.
The birdsong
will be
silent
yet now
until
spring.
Up rises the dimmed dove
with wings unfolded, revealed
as a stray unsent letter -
the white cross. Even still,
where the flight feathers
dust upwards, they
do not reach the sky.
Because, although they are
white and soft,
ash bruised skies
refuse to open.
The winged shadow stitches
into the poppies below,
darkening
vermilion into a sickly rouge.
A crow lies beneath.
Too young to die, yet
old enough to fight.
His poppyseed eyes
are eternally blind
to beauty
of the dove.
Oct 8, 2025
Oct 8, 2025 at 5:04 PM UTC
Down lies a still smouldering crow,
his sullen wings saturated
with fast-drying wines.
The rouged soils rupture and burst
into bloom. The rotting welts
turn green with age.
Now petal spill
like blood from the buds
The wilting, creasing constellation.
Down lies a smouldering crow.
He wears his mother’s
face now, as he rests, at last,
amongst the flowers without a
casket
to separate.
Now feathers spill
from hollow bone, and cold
eyes widen, blind.
The birdsong
will be
silent
yet now
until
spring.
Up rises the dimmed dove
with wings unfolded, revealed
as a stray unsent letter -
the white cross. Even still,
where the flight feathers
dust upwards, they
do not reach the sky.
Because, although they are
white and soft,
ash bruised skies
refuse to open.
The winged shadow stitches
into the poppies below,
darkening
vermilion into a sickly rouge.
A crow lies beneath.
Too young to die, yet
old enough to fight.
His poppyseed eyes
are eternally blind
to beauty
of the dove.
Written to go alongside a physical display - a white dove rising above a model of a dead crow, with wings spread and head held high. Poppies surround the crow grow high.
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