Hey Poets!
For some insight on process, check out Michael Dumanis' blog entry "How a Poem Happens".
Try writing your own poem about visiting somewhere new.
Try writing your own poem about visiting somewhere new.
Dead Crows and Other Mysteries
(Image: Oil Painting by Kirsti Ann Wakelin) The other evening I dreamt I found a dead crow caught behind the cushions of my sofa. Disturbing. How did it get there, in my dream, so concrete and visible? And what does it mean? Carl Jung would have me analyze the significance of this dream as it connects to our collective consciousness. What do crows symbolize in our culture today? Was this a visit from Poe? Has a Haida raven dropped by to keep me on my toes? Or is the recent death of my grandfather somehow "couched" in my internal dialogue? He was a storyteller. Even more intriguing is what happened when I relayed this dream story to my grade 8's. Picking up a new book of poetry and opening it randomly the first poem I fell upon was Jon Silkin's "Carved", the first two lines: Two small dogs stood by a dead black bird And the black bird was very dead. There is no denying death. The dead are dead. As with Silkin's black bird. As with
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