On the First Day of March Crows Begin To Search
by Carol Berg
based on the painting of the same name by Kay Sage
In October our minds connect
to the name of shadow. Wingtip
to wingtip we fold the dusk
over the movement of the earth.
The stillness of man
made structures with their crevices
and hives of windows—our minds
quiet over all. How some of our eyes squint
against the receding wave of summer.
How some of our eyes close
against the deathblow of sunset.
In March our minds connect
to the name of light. Even our folded
feathers imply movement.
Our minds rustle over all
the earth’s small creakings. We begin our naming.
The names drop into greens that tighten.
Greens that deepen. The wind
has begun its relentless thinking.
Now the red veins in the small burrowed
creatures begin their murmur.
How the urgency of this red spurts inside us.
Another eye wills itself open. Another eye roves.
Carol Berg has poems in Fifth Wednesday Journal, Pebble Lake Review, Rhino, Sweet, Melusine, and elsewhere. She has an MFA from Stonecoast and an MA in English Literature.