I lost my words
Couldn’t quite recall
where they were-
On some lost scrap of paper?
Typed on a long-forgotten page?
I felt a loss

Not because of ego-
that they’d spoken profound
would inspire masses
move the world
I don’t think myself so highly
And besides, such reception would overwhelm me

It’s just I’d found comfort
in a brief moment
of reflection
gazing out my window
at the crows
That was when I wrote

They blackened the sky,
Filled the air with a nesting cry
And I sat, enthralled
as hundreds overhead
kissed across old slate rooftops
marking the last of winter’s daylight

I felt calm
in awe
a clarity
so profound
and then came a thought
that would distract me from all earlier preoccupations

I took up a pen
-Ah, so it was!
and wrote
This was no frenzy
no flurry of words
but even, measured flow

It all escapes me now
this tragic loss
Did I write of an emotion?
Who or what did I speak on?
Perhaps of a mere crow!
I can’t recall

But the feeling remains:
There was warmth in those words
an assurance
that I had something of value to say
It gave me great comfort
I was reconnected

So now
I’m left chasing a feeling
trying to put a puzzle together
of vague recollections
of a meaning I know I once owned-
I’m lost for words

Ezy Reading is out every month.