The murder of crows
rain from the skies
swarm the earth
caw and crowd wildly
a chaos of cacophony
a frenzy of undulating black
tearing at a shadowed heap
drawing more closely
I see the object
of their mania
a body
a lifeless body
my body!
my eyes jerk open
waking with a start
shuddering a fevered sweat
I’m tight
in this nightmare’s grip
no alarm
need bid me awaken
this day
a fumbling for the lamp
follows moments of confusion
sitting upright
I slow my breathing
wipe dry my brow
then
throwing my leges
over the edge of my bed
I stumble my feet
into my slippers
and slowly rise
from the soak of my mattress
still shaking slightly
I tug on my robe
amble to the kitchen
take a cup from the shelf
and pour chamomile tea
it’s brewed ready each morning
by the wonders of technology
retreating to my office
to my chair
where it waits
welcoming
in a pool of soft light
buffering the pre-dawn dark
I sit
sip my steeped motivation
quietly peeling away fog
that lingers still
clouding my mind
residue of this fitful night
somber
I’m pleased to be awake
to be alive
grateful for the peace
for the deep quiet
of early morning
finally
my thoughts
begin to un-blend
to gather
slowly they sort
in colors of my dark mood
melancholy greys
fear’s dark ebony
the purples of pain
blood red of anger
the violet of regret
and sorrowful blues
it’s an incomplete spectrum
stirred by this morning’s
reflections on death
on my mortality
recently threatened twice
by my failing heart
then under the surgeon’s knife
these bleak colors
shoulder in coldly
crowding my reverie
pondering my plight
cursing this recurring fate
I struggle
‘neath the weight of my uncertainty
of my heavy insecurity
a riot of emotions
overcome me
crowding in
like this morning’s madness
of the imagined murder of crows
I seek clarity
I reach for my laptop
my escape
my refuge of resolution
my canvass of language
I slowly lay fingers
on keyboard
in the spreading saffrons
and corals of dawn
I begin painting
deep indigo
*
rob kistner © 2022
More poetry at: dVerse