in the blue light of dawn, the snow fell silently on branches,
the crows called to one another
and to me–
after watching them from the window with warm coffee in my hands and hopefulness in my heart,
the pup and i joined their play, like restless children after a long sickness, the cold and the drifting snow saturating us with reckless abandon
fly away my friend
sometimes it’s not so much what is lost,
as what can be found
i asked her, “if you were a bird, which bird would you be?”
and she answered so close to my soul:
“a raven.”
a vulture came to visit my chimney–
she spread her wings and ruffled her feathers,
and we stared at her in complete reverence
she listens to the crow’s call,
and it’s like coming home
what feels familiar, worn, trusted was once new and strange
