melissaahowells
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Little Crow
why is this called saying good-bye when the parting is not good? it isn't little bird now fallen the little bird who failed to thrive one of trailing white feather now of crumpled wing what is the kind of song of you now that you have died that a mere human voice could sing I found you crushed lying in the middle of the street your beak open as if you were about to speak would this have been your song? a song of swooping a song of fearlessness and release a song of surviving bad weather a song of passing years of having family a song of many refrains a song of endless seasons over and over again and again I am sad Little Crow I relished feeding you and your family in the streets near my building until it was decreed by the upstairs monitor lizard " no more" shortly after the decree I found you the one white trailing feather moved slightly in the breeze it was too hot for tears but my heart clenched into a fist as I saw all around you a scattering of black feathers your family must have come to be with you in the end I'm aware that crows do that they attend more funerals than some humans do youth is hard you didn't grow up I enjoyed being your friend Little Crow but I wanted to see you live to grow older into one big damn crow jaunting down the street one day with a long white feather trailing far behind. (I will always love you. No one can say to me you were just a stupid bird.) Little Crow was a nestling that fell of a great tree near my complex. I was feeding him and his family in the street until I was given a 30 day no cause eviction notice in violation of my lease. Several days later I found Little Crow crumpled lying in the street. It does not necessarily follow that these events logically happened one after the other. But in my half-broken heart they did. We had a sort of bond. I don't care what anyone else thinks. He/She who cannot make room in their heart for all of God's creatures does not have much of a heart. I make no concession in this. The street will always be public domain to me. And I so thoroughly enjoyed being greeted by the crow family every day I was greeted with rice n such. They ate everything. There was nothing left but for the ants. I think I am through with apartment living. Perhaps its time to get me a ten/tee pee or build a cabin/a-frame. I've been a damn city slicker for far too long and it is beginning to wear on me. I need to grow my own vegetables again. Copyright August 22 2014/All Rights Reserved By The Author Melissa A Howells/Meloo straight from her Tilt-a-World All rants/ideas/poetry/prose are legal property of this Writer. Vote for this poem |
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