Unflinching
written by: Aleathia Drehmer
Outside the window
the crows call back and forth–
one to the other
then one to a pair
then a pair finds a murder.
The full moon falls down
behind barely winter trees,
falls like an intoxicated woman
trying to empty her soul of burdens
and still the crows echo.
Inside, I’m reading a poem
about a young girl getting an abortion,
the writer equating her to a songbird.
The crows crescendo.
My hesitant cat finds me on the bed,
undeterred by the harsh calls
piercing the glass of the window,
to get his morning pets.
He knocks the book from my hand,
reminds me of what is important.
I forget this sometimes.
The crows find distance
until all that is left
is the sound of wheels
at high speed on the road.
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