Saturday, February 7, 2015

Raven: A True Story

She’s got a bad reputation.
Dressed in morbid black
She doesn’t know when to shut up.

A tough old bird.

On a harsh winter morning
She follows me
As I storm down the back road

Her calls catch me
And I stop in my tracks.

“What do you want?”

She tilts her head
With curiosity


“Who are you?”
“Who are you?”

She swoops past me

A dark slash of laughter
Against the snow.

Judgements don’t matter.
It’s all a game.
Life is silly.

I plunk down in a deep drift and chuckle.

©Conni Cartlidge, 2015

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