RAVEN REPORT 0426

Madness is built right into my name:
I am stark, a raving raven
flying addled circles against the odds.
It comes with intelligence.

We’re having a dry spring this year,
the woods layered with dust and oak leaves.
As if I can read the keep-out signs,
I head for the wildlife refuge:  I qualify

wildly and madly above the marsh.
In the shallow water, my rippled reflection
is safe, protected regardless of insanity.
To the east, the percussion of hunters,

a gleam between the chartreuse trees
beckons:  rifles, sunglasses, the silver
tooth or Bud can.  Already
I can see the crazy future.