An Absence of Crows

In late summer, I slept by the open window of a borrowed room. And in the morning, at first light, I was often awakened by a raucous chorus of crows.

I tried not to think about you then, except when I was obliged to. Like when I had to drive you somewhere in the car.

Even then, with you sitting beside me, I refused to speak.

Now, I speak to you often, across the broad chasm which separates this life from the next.

Once or twice, I've thought that you've answered me. Once in a dream and once when awake.

This spring, I haven't heard the crows. I think they know that it's too late for what they were trying to tell me...

LPK
@Dreamwidth
6.3.2017