The crows come down
from their high spy tower,
a gypsy synchronicity of black
but they tell me nothing
any more, beaks macerating silence,
eyes shiny blank as linoleum;
no answers, only sharp corvine curses,
cracks as they pry the suet butterfly
from her metal corset
and convene in iron symmetry
a privacy of devouring.
It's plain that I'm not Odin
though I've given more than my eye,
that the gossip of the green world
passes me by, the old feed of
voices an ejaculation of clouds,
alabaster riddles in indigo night
while I dream white dreams
in the periwinkles,
forgotten as Sleipnir's name
wondering if ragnarök
is still to come, or already
gathered up in the trees.
Optional Musical Accompaniment
Posted for real toads
Challenge:An Ink-Stained Wordlist
I had a lot of help with this one, first from Kerry's list of favorite toad words at the link above, then from the speaking photography of my friend Petteri Sulonen, whose picture, Crow Taking Flight with Frozen Treetops is at the header.
Process notes: In Norse mythology, Odin possessed two ravens, Huginn and Muninn(Thought and Memory) who flew the world and brought him back its news. He also had a magical eight-legged horse named Sleipnir whom he rode between the worlds. Odin gave his eye under the world tree to learn the wisdom of the Frost Giants. You can click the tags 'odin' or 'Huginn and Mugin' below for more poems about these symbols.
Thanks, as always, Petteri, for the inspiration.