A Poem of Premonition: Wednesday, July 16, 2008
The crows collect
in front of my window.
They call for souls
to make a widow.
the signs are near.
Their caws and claws
and passing fears.
I stir, I wake, I feel un-right.
The souls have lost another fight.
I sway and drop at three o’clock.
My heart is tight, my head is light,
I can’t see straight, I don’t feel right.
The air is heavy, thick with doom,
That makes one feel a future tomb.
Laid out, fallen in
splayed out, sprawled in
helpless thought, ethereal plane,
a horseman’s fingers gripping mane.
The horse draws near
the carriage here
a faceless light
I don’t feel right.
A darkened space
a hooded trim
I’m missing him.
Dense work omits emotion’s run
With omen’s work not nearly done.
Thirty after four,
Taken out of context,
A signal alarms,
The window leaves me vexed.
I see no harm, I raise the door,
Look into the window, and down at the floor.
The shock is sharp, it pierces, it bites,
Words squeeze like a vise, my chest is tight.
Blunt words burst out.
Not a second, not a doubt.
I want to move, I want to fight.
Something about this, I don’t feel right.
My captured speech, the crows took flight.
The souls are called, and I don’t feel right.
My sister strong, she had to say
My father at three has passed away.
About the Author:
Born in Sitka, Alaska, Jonathan Emrys was influenced by the television of the 60’s and 70’s. His over-active imagination dominated his childhood and eventually blossomed into acting. Jonathan’s acting career was eventually replaced with a steady income courtesy of the aerospace industry, but his love of writing now fills that creative void.