Three Raven.

God’s moon, leavetaking
from the garden, the wildling from its fruit
I’ve killed; like the moon without its stalked
winters, I cannot behold reconciliation
of two silhouettes; the phone-line I cut
still lures my name.

in the echoes of the orange orchard,
perfumed in late air, eyes known the moon;
this stone will
not vanish, I could though
into disconnection, knowing then
of gods writhing with bony trees
is (at last) silent.

© 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.


Written for the dVerse prompt:

  • see if you can hook yourself a new reader with upfront vivid images and unusual word use
  • maybe stick with tradition (starting top left) or forge out in a new direction, maybe even a one line, or even a one-word poem (though please read the article that I’ve linked to Saroyan’s poem)  
  • perhaps try your hand at some found poetry, make something shapely or striking or something off the fridge
  • or perhaps a poem beginning with a line by a poet who’s provoked or enthralled or charmed or annoyed you (don’t forget to link to the original poem in your post).

  40 comments for “Three Raven.

  1. January 28, 2021 at 4:24 pm

    I noticed that the moon was almost full the other day when the sky was clear… love what you can take from such a fruit… so many shadows from a full moon.

    Liked by 4 people

  2. sanaarizvi
    January 28, 2021 at 5:08 pm

    Swooning I am 😀 I especially love; “I cannot behold reconciliation of two silhouettes; the phone-line I cut still lures my name.” You rocked the prompt! 💝

    Liked by 4 people

  3. January 28, 2021 at 5:36 pm

    Gripping and tense, and love those last few lines. I mean, what’s not to love – “gods writhing with bony trees is (at last) silent”

    Well done, Lucy.

    Liked by 4 people

  4. January 28, 2021 at 5:57 pm

    Strong images and such turmoil in the verses. “This stone will not vanish,” is so heavy in that some things will never leave even after we cut the phone lines. The emotional struggle is tangible here. 💔

    Liked by 4 people

    • January 28, 2021 at 8:04 pm

      Thank you so much, Tricia. You’re exactly right, some things are harder to fade away even if it is for the right reasons.

      Liked by 2 people

      • January 28, 2021 at 8:35 pm

        Yes, it’s life, we get rocks thrown at us and then they are hard to move. 💕

        Liked by 2 people

      • January 28, 2021 at 9:03 pm

        Definitely.

        Liked by 3 people

  5. January 28, 2021 at 6:03 pm

    That’s a great first line – intriguing & bereft – which echoes down through the rest of the poem – I particularly liked the image of the orange orchard, ‘perfumed in late air’ – here’s us kicked out of Eden, the perfume of what we’ve lost taunts us across that old impenetrable wall.

    Liked by 4 people

  6. January 28, 2021 at 6:15 pm

    O that leavetaking be so easy; the moon’s been struggling in its net for aeons. Still, such absenting chills the marrow of this poem, like a phone line that’s lost its handset. Or something. The verse is gorgeous though opaque as a moonless night.

    Liked by 3 people

  7. January 28, 2021 at 6:22 pm

    A fascinating poem, Lucy … love that you published this when we are blessed with a full moon tonight. I was most intrigued by ‘this stone will not vanish, I could though.’ Spooky.

    Liked by 3 people

  8. January 28, 2021 at 7:34 pm

    Reblogged this on About the Jez of It and commented:

    I was sold on the title, no surprise there, I wasn’t disappointed – excellent write, Lucy

    Liked by 4 people

    • January 28, 2021 at 8:01 pm

      Oh wow, I don’t know what to say. Thank you so very much for your kind words and the reblog! ❤

      Liked by 2 people

  9. Glenn A. Buttkus
    January 28, 2021 at 9:20 pm

    You had me at the title, THREE RAVENS, a Gothic pub on the edge of some haunted moors, the title of a novel, or a Victorian painting. Though I did not find blackbird one within the piece, and did find the lunatic fringe, and plenty of mooning. Another fine poem from Lucy’s pulsing pen.

    Liked by 3 people

  10. January 28, 2021 at 11:27 pm

    This feels like a walk through a burial garden… talking to the stones and feeling the call of those long passed, yet knowing your time of disconnect too is coming! Beautifully done Lucy!

    Liked by 3 people

  11. January 29, 2021 at 2:49 am

    I think any one of your first lines would draw me in, and this is no exception! I loved ‘like the moon without its stalked
    winters’ – stalked winters, wow!

    Liked by 3 people

  12. January 29, 2021 at 3:10 am

    perfumed in late air, eyes known the moon;

    Lucy,

    I really loved this line in particular 🙂

    -David

    Liked by 3 people

  13. January 29, 2021 at 4:42 am

    Such a strange coincidence, Lucy: I took photographs of the moon still round and clear outside my window this morning, ‘leavetaking from the garden’! I like the way the two stanzas are connected by the cut phone-line and disconnection, and love the appeal to the senses of the ‘orange orchard, perfumed in late air’.

    Liked by 4 people

    • January 29, 2021 at 3:11 pm

      Ah, that is indeed a strange coincidence! I’m glad you could enjoy the poem, I thank you so much for your lovely words. ❤

      Liked by 2 people

  14. January 29, 2021 at 7:54 am

    That’s an arresting opening phrase! I like the nod to Wallace Stevens too.

    Liked by 4 people

  15. January 29, 2021 at 10:02 am

    Oh, so compelling and full of intrigue! Bravo!

    Liked by 4 people

  16. January 30, 2021 at 4:26 pm

    Lucy another truly captivating poem. Just those first two words made me incredibly curious and drew me in. As always well written and an interesting read.

    Liked by 3 people

  17. February 16, 2021 at 11:46 am

    Well done!

    Liked by 1 person

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