A Poem of Premonition: Wednesday, July 16, 2008

The crows collect

in front of my window.

They call for souls

to make a widow.

Alerting me,

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

commotion’s face

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.