The ravens choose a direction, bickering briefly
then travel with one mindset—never criss-cross.
Maybe independence is not individual, but
rather a virtue communally shared. Now here we are,
silly humans, lost at cross-purposes,
occasionally moving in tandem
more by chance than by design.
We strayed, then years later
here we are, battle-scarred
but still smiling. We know
one another’s scent with the certainty
of littermates, eager to hear
the stories that carried on
though our ears were turned away
for so long.
September 19, 2008