The Crestfallen Raven
The crestfallen raven of the Western Shire peered down at the worm of the early hour,
“Worm, worm,” squawked the raven at the worm as it squirmed between rock and soil,
“Shall I be remembered when I pass? For I am beset by death and see the end at last.
Will none recall my fierce, black feather, the midnight plume in storming weather?
Will the earth weep for me when my beak may kiss its cheek a final time and sink beneath, then beyond, with time?
Might the stars, where I have flown, whom all I have known, at my doom, fall across the night sky like rain drops against my plume?
Tell me, fresh, squirming worm, will I be remembered at all, or be gone in time with the morning dew?”
“If you do not eat me,” said the worm, “I will remember you.”
Posted Dec 24, 2018, 8:59 PM UTC
The internal rhymes work nicely -- I especially like how the worm's final response doesn't use any, reinforcing how verbose the raven is in contrast to the worm.
A few moments have me stumbling a bit. The line that begins "Might the stars" has some fantastic images, but the rhythm and the uptick in internal rhymes drives me forward so quickly I don't really spend any time with them.
I like how this line, by tying the images of falling stars and raindrops on feathers together, makes me think of the raven falling too making its death seem closer. I'd like to see those images re-worked a bit to make the reader linger while maintaining the questions' urgency.