April is Poetry Month - a poem by Carroll S. Taylor

 

Carroll S. Taylor

In Memoriam

One by one
they drop from the sky
and find their perches among
thin, lithe boughs
of a leafless white oak tree,
now a sharp silhouette sketched in inky black lines
against an ominous steel-gray sky.
Only a few stubborn patches of lichen
dare to cling here or there like crepe
left behind on the empty branches.
Dried sunflowers in the garden
hang their heads in grief and disbelief.
They know their end has come.
The mourners are wearing their funereal finest.
Sleek, ebony feathers reflect the slanted rays of
the afternoon sun but find no warmth in this place.
Shiny, black eyes survey the sight below them.
One of their own, felled by the farmer’s gun,
is strung from a rope on the barbwire fence.
A warning, a sign to his kindred.
They are not welcome here.
They might share his fate.
The mourners sit in silence,
a brief corvine ceremony of respect.
Then all at once, the service concludes
as if some unseen chorus master has waved his baton.
They lift their wings and fly away together,
each one calling out to one another
in discordant voices only they understand.
A benediction for their fallen comrade.

Carroll Taylor, a retired educator, is the author of two young adult novels, Chinaberry Summer and Chinaberry Summer: On the Other Side, and a children’s book, Feannag the Crow. She is currently hosting Mountain Wordsmiths each month on Zoom. Originally from Cataula, Georgia, she and her husband now live in Hiawassee, Georgia.