Last night, I was
awoken by a raven
that had flown in
through my open window,
and perched itself
atop my book-case.
***
“Who is there?” I cried.
“Let me give you what for!”
But t’wasn’t human that
answered.
***
Said the raven,
“Dinty Moore.”
***
Tell me, bird, I asked.
Are you an omen,
or divine?
Is this a message of
the future — of
what I have in store?
But my plea it went
unanswered.
***
Said the raven,
“Dinty Moore.”
***
“Wait,” I said, as
suddenly I knew.
“Dinty Moore?
The beef-stew?”
***
“Is that why you bother me?
Is this what you tout?
Is that why you woke me?”
***
Said the raven,
“I’ll show myself out.”
***
part two
***
The next morning,
still in my kerchief &
night-gown, I sat with
a cup of coffee at
the breakfast nook
***
Lit a bowl,
and pondered my
passerine
pop-in crook
***
… And how,
despite the intrusion,
I suppose some beef-stew
did sound pretty good.
***
When suddenly,
there was a tapping at my
window.
***
It was another raven!
This one dressed smart —
***
In a pressed white shirt
with black tie taut.
On a card table was an
e-meter.
***
Said the raven,
“Would you like to see a thought?”
t r e f o l o g y 