"The Unkindness of Ravens"

Written By

Regina Elliott

Through shadowy veils of my mournful mind

are the vastness of iridescent stars,

their hopeful light does not comfort me,

as the very thought of not having been in

the treasure of your presence awakens the

dulling grief of my heart's loneliness,

as the unkindness of ravens have

alighted on my cold sill,

perching in their misery of silence,

such avian moroseness,

to be as black as eve's unyielding

darkness,

the onyx of their eyes in a deathly watch,

their dirge unsung.


Falling,

falling,

falling from the heady spell of after

midnight's witchery,

Death's sudden arrival,

his rattling and frosty breath chills

my very existence,

my time of passing with his

undying kiss is unknown,

could I awaken in my bedchamber

with his icy bones at my side?

before my own melancholic bones

become ash?


In these desolate hours I can

hear faint church bells peal

heavily,

then louder, tolling, tolling,

for my funeral day,

what bereavement has wrought!

a deep gong of the grandfather

clock,

it's face reflecting the filled

October harvest moon of fate,

fleeting misty clouds upon

her golden glorious fairness,

was it her love, her desire or

my inspired longing for our

spirits to entwine, Edgar?

your monumental macabre

works,

your legend,

your suffering,

your eyes of the shadows

of an eclipse,

your brooding mystery,

dust cannot conceal,

infinity cannot fade into

the depths of the cosmos,

and I in my sallow sorrow

will weep for you, always ~

Regina Elliott is a sixty-five year old widow residing with her daughter and her family. She has been writing poetry since her late fifties. She was nominated for the Push Cart Prize in 2020.