Photo by Amarnath Tade on Unsplash

This morning I think of Del,
a lovely man
who left me caught in this life with
so many questions,
such swirling currents that
at this moment threaten
to engulf me.
It would be easy to huddle
into the shawl that my mohter
and my grandmother refused.

As I walk in this fog
of doubt, I see Crow
in that tree, watching me.
Trouble lifts
and comfort wraps me.
Crow’s certain, never doubting eye
reminds me,
I am carried  as it is carried
in rhythm sometimes stormy,
sometimes calm.

Crow’s eye blinks, its call
floats over the fields,
and the air is filled
with answers.
Crow spreads its wing,
heads into an open sky.

February 2002