the crow and The City, act ii
& maybe today she saw a hawk & her instincts carried her after it, her eyes too weak, her binoculars all wrong. she wanted to spread her arms out wide, to shake something in violence just as a warning, a threat, a promise. the causalities spasm through her mind, gurgling blood across her thoughts. but the crows throw themselves into chaos; caw, caw, cawing in reverse, sewing circles around this unwelcome visitor. & maybe today, as she watched, a few of her feathers fell; she's slowly realizing that she did not evolve to fly & her dreams are being shot out of the sky one by one.
out of season hunting