Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Outage

Ten thousand homes were without power
after Raven’s suicide, an impulsive death
by electrocution, followed by the slow, acrid burn
of shining feathers that lit the grass on fire;
a minor human emergency, an inconvenience
which hampered countless sales transactions.

Raven’s family, arrayed in the lodgepole pines
in ragged rows, watched the scurrying humans
and cackled their bird-brained delight
at Raven’s bold success. After all,
she had often been heard to say
how she’d like go out with a bang.

Rachel Westfall
July 2, 2014

3 comments:

Rob-bear said...

Those Ravens
are always
such characters!
Never miss a chance
to do something
dramatic,
or truly
shocking.

Blessings and Bear hugs, Rachel!

christopher said...

After Losing Her Babies

The electron lept
off the wire onto her beak
and moist pinkish tongue
there to dance a jig
and flash into holy light
all white and blinding.
Raven held on tight
death defying claws and beak
while the particle
storm swamped her bird brain
and ate her whole raven life
leaving bones behind -
and feathers, always
there are black raven feathers
to mark a last day.

July 8, 2014 4:12 PM

Rachel Westfall said...

I am sad. However, I love the gifts of your poems!