Dawn Crow Caw

Dawn Crow Caw

I woke in the dark,
back of my skull pressed in my pillow,
watched darkness thin, day begin,
black sky turn pale grey, faint blue.
In our apartment bedroom,
shapes and shadows grew.
Became aware of the deep of dawn.
From it came the caw of crows.
Territories they claimed, I knew,
patch of rock and tree to perch and hunt.
Reminded me that Yerevan
stands in the vale of mount Ararat,
is a city built on the floor of bare mountain land.
Before humans came, crows cawed in the dawn,
lowered their heads, took flight, swooped on their prey.
The Ereboni fortress, they watched humans build,
a defence against foes.
Later, circle by circle, the stone city of Yerevan.
Now in parks and urban trees, I hear crows caw.
Crows have no brain for memory,
do not know their history,
but more than to humans,
who can only ever be intruders, migrants,
invaders, settlers, this valley belongs to them.
Dawn is deep, brief, like midnight or noon,
has its own magic.
I can remember, but cannot go back to when,
not long woken from sleep,
aware of the deep of dawn,
I heard crows caw,
a sound more ancient than hieroglyph or rune.



2 thoughts on “Dawn Crow Caw”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s