Forestall
by Jenny Bates
You came so close, Crow.
The empty branch surrendering
to your grip, shuddering in still
minutes after liftoff.
I suppose I live in an idiot’s
false security. Dreaming of Crow
flying to my hand. When really,
all the wild things want or expect
is to be left alone. Live their own
lives the way they were intended
to be lived. If I extend them this
courtesy, they would reciprocate
in kind. Both of us could have
clear conscience.
Shame though. I’d like to spend
the day with Crow. One of ramble
and mischief. Bad manners takes
over — I can’t help sounding out
Wait!
Instead, I’m tossed out flopping
back to my natural element.
Then the whole thing has to start
all over again.
PAINTING: A Murder of Crows by Mildred Anne Butler (1858-1941).
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: “Forestall” the poem came out my emotional indulgence for my local Crow family. Knowing my house may be considered by them a giant “Crow’s nest” in our forest. Longing to communicate with them on the highest level, yet knowing I may just be as close as I’ll ever get. Emerson said, “…nature’s secret is patience…” perhaps that is the greatest friendship lesson Crows teach.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Jenny Bates lives in North Carolina. She is a member of Winston-Salem Writers, NC Poetry Society, and NC Writers Network. Her published books include Coyote with Coffee (Catbird on the Yadkin Press, NC 2014), Visitations (Hermit Feathers Press, NC 2019), Slip (Hermit Feathers Press, NC 2020). Her newest collection is Where the Deer Sleep (Hermit Feathers Press, NC 2022). She is known as a local animal whisperer to Donkeys, Coyotes, and “Crow Folk.”
Nice one, Jenny. I think we can be assured the Crows know your face as that of a friend..