GRIEF Poem: crow on the lamppost, by Elaine Perry

Twice, I see you up there, perched on the lamppost.
I know the omen said in folklores,
yet I feel nothing but liberation wash over me in the prairie evening breeze—
as though freedom might arrive with the morning light.

In the breeze, I hear the indigenous songs and howling—
the stomping and drumming pounding the earth beneath.
The omens foretold, and the ceremonial dancing to stave them off—
a crow to witness from above all that humans know of divine worship.

From a distance, I vicariously surrender to higher commands.
The messages were clear as they cried,
the expectations unmistakable as they sought deliverance.
No man shall suffer alone in disgrace.

You tried to rule the gods’ land, and fell hard into the caverns of deep truth.
You vowed vengeance against those who wronged you,
only to find the soulless act void of levity.
You cannot soar with the weighted morals of an iron anvil.

No human escapes the sentence of a biological origin.
An expiration is stamped, with no alterations to extend—only to shorten.
No more robust than God’s will for your protection.
A final end — will we return to the womb of the earth?

The crow knows.”