Corvids are marvelous birds.

Cunning, they take advantage of what they can.

They like shiny things, and social get togethers.

They are known thieves, and full of bravado.

They can mimic, too.

I’ve always liked that Family.

Crows and ravens, especially.

Their inky depths, their enveloping shadows.

Their bone clacking clicks

And ear shattering caws.

The way they perch and look into you

To decide if they want

To steal your soul

Or tell you a secret

Or crap on your head

Sometimes they look

To see if you just have something tasty to eat

That maybe, just maybe

You will give to them.

Crumb? Morsel? Feast?

Odin had magical corvidae.

Hugin was thought, Munin was memory

Sleipnir, Geri and Freki are terrifying enough

But to have Thought and Memory constantly over you

What weight!

Raven, it is said, brought the sun

To warm the earth He made.

But jays and magpies are corvids too

And no one seems to like them much

Even when they chase cats

Ravens, too, are birds of war

Macha, Nemain and Babd’s other skins

One caw from Macha and great warriors

Pissed themselves

I know you want to be Her, but you can’t be

In stories, Ravens tell long tales

Trickster birds, out to get something for nothing

Or at least very little

They talk your ear off

And then fly away with it

Ravens, though, aren’t quite as common

In these parts as some think.

If you see one, it is more likely a crow.

Few people pause for Thought these days

And it’s easier to ignore Memory, so to avoid guilt.

And the things with birds is

They are so delicate!

Hollow bones, fast heart beats

Extremes and gasses affect them greatly

Parasites and predators make them quick snacks

I’ve always liked that Family.

Their inky depths, their enveloping shadows.

Their  fragile bones crunching

The red, red blood

And feathers everywhere.