Some time after you left
I took myself off
to a quiet spot
at the edge of the woods.
I lay on the grass, thought it was
time I gave my heart an inspection
so I took it out.
It had shrunk to
the size of a walnut.
That’s when the crow took it,
plucked that heart right out
of my hand as I held it to the light;
flew off with it, carried it high
in the horse chestnut tree –
remember the one?
I thought the crow must have a
nest with young, and my heart
would help to raise them.
I liked the thought of that,
since you had no need for
my heart anymore and
from the look of things,
I didn’t either.
Beth is a retired teacher, born in the Middle East but now living in Dorset so unsurprisingly she loves chalk downs and deserts. She will have her debut collection, A Landscape With Birds published by Hedgehog Press in 2022. She is an enthusiastic member of the Twitter poetry community and can be found as @BethBrooke8.
photo by Alex Dukhanov (via unsplash)
Crow & Cross Keys 