Morning star

The day lightens from cold
to blue. A glint of her caught
in crow’s diadem as he wheels

home. We are bound to hard things,
to wood, steel and wire —
Who would hear heartsongs

In the cacophony of words
tumult-born? Day is carried 
in by crow’s harsh heralding

through and above 
stormy crosscurrents.
Soaring. His fluid gyration.

Even now, now, his harsh
heralding is the one true thing.



Copyright Chris Murray 2021
First published Irish Times Poetry
Online URL https://www.irishtimes.com/culture/books/poem-of-the-week-morning-star-1.4676001