Crow’s True Song by Gita Ralleigh


In the early glint of sun she caws me awake

from the mango tree. Old scrapethroat rakes


trembling air, shirrs green leaves and a stupor

of sucking bees. She will not quiet raucous


creak nor still curved beak for other’s trilling.

Swoops to the mirror, preens her nightglister


wings. Pecks image in glass: kiss or sinister

shadow embrace. Her cry puckers my heart


to a scar. An ugly cry but true, this song

of crow who loves herself. Why can’t you?


__________


Gita Ralleigh works as a medical doctor and completed an MA in 2015. She has been published in Magma Poetry, Wasafiri and Bellevue Literary Review and in anthologies published by The Emma Press. Her poetry pamphlet A Terrible Thing was published by Bad Betty Press in October 2020.