Crow

Sweet kid

What is this world we're giving you

Smoldering and fascist with no mother

Are you dreaming about a crow

In the middle of November

We went back into the woods

Right after breakfast

To see if we could see this past

August's forest fire zone

On the hill above the lake

The sky was low and the wind cold

The trail was closed

At the barricade I stood listening

In my backpack you were sleeping with her hat pulled low

All the usual birds were gone or freezing

It was all silent except the sound of one crow

Following us as we wove

Through the cedar grove

I walked and you bobbed and dozed

Sweet kid

We were watched and followed

And I thought of Geneviève

Sweet kid

I heard you murmur in your sleep

Crow you said

Crow and I asked

Are you dreaming about a crow

And there she was