I am a crow
Because you always thought
That’s what I would be

Ever since you read
That crows can symbolize
Mystery, Wisdom, or Death.

And so when I came for you,
You saw me
As a crow.

Remember in childhood
You left food for me:
Berries, grains, meat;

And in exchange
I brought you shiny things,
All the pretty things

I could find:
Bottle caps, lost earrings,
Shells, bright bits of string.

You wondered at the mystery
And treasured my gifts
In a box.

You grew and moved
But heard me calling,
Cawing, through all your years,

Knew I was there,
Waiting.
You photographed me,

Painted me,
Wrote of me,
Of all my pretty things:

Claw, feathers, eyes,
Beak, gaze, wisdom,
As you aged into autumn,

Thinking of life lived
And wisdom bought
With time.

And now I’ve come,
Reminding you, before we leave,
Of all your pretty things:

Of love, tears,
Successes, failures,
Family, solitude, travel,

Of treasured things locked
In the box of your soul
As we take to the sky
In search of pretty things.