I'm not sure how this poem makes me feel. So much is sad, but that last image of the crow - "an unlit vesper candle" - hits me as both hopeful - the potential of a candle yet to be lit - and sad - a candle which has not attained its purpose.
I don't think we can help but carry sadness with us for the things we see happening that we can't change. For nature, for injustice, for inevitable aging. But then there's love and the human spirit which continue despite the sadness.
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