A Raven's Nap, a Poem
A Raven's Nap
Northerners know the way of Ravens;
They never nest, rest in front of us,
Before dark, they gather wings of dusk
and fly secret lee lines to a home
we never see... mysterious creatures...
Ravens come, every morning around 8 am-
hustling for free scoff, interjecting one another-
brash, loud voices, but one... I could talk to,
crooning cloaks and hoarse love songs...
we exchanged over long discourse our views;
every day our vocabulary grew til he came
close to quietly talk- tete a tete with me...
He came to me at noon- tired out by kids
and their endless bragging...
He tucked his head, and slept
right in front of me,
an act of faith unheard of for Ravens-
I watched over him as I would a child,
I cried tears, silent, stunned...
he unfolded his neck and beak...
about two hours later...
looked at me, croaked a tiny thanks
and flew back to his life
of complete mystery.
You can see the Queen of England
or The Stones, or The Who,
but, as hard as you try-
you can't get on this list
unless you've earned it.