Karen Kevorkian: The Dozen Crows Calling Blackly

White bodied woman at the window
of the brick house that rouges
                                  a white morning. Come back to bed
 
from the unwound sheets. Only what’s observed
                                the black crow caw
 
not a dog’s bark
                               black diagonal echo
                                                                  unwinding peel
knife paring
                              seeking pith every morning
 
                              gray squirrel shooting down a wet limb
every morning the slide down
 
                             an arm raised against
                             eyelids’ red scald

Karen Kevorkian