"The Unkindness of Ravens"
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
the onyx of their eyes in a deathly watch,
their dirge unsung.
falling from the heady spell of after
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
In these desolate hours I can
hear faint church bells peal
then louder, tolling, tolling,
for my funeral day,
what bereavement has wrought!
a deep gong of the grandfather
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
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.