My Crow

A crow flew into the tree outside my window.
It was not Ted Hughes’s crow, or Galway’s crow.IMG_20140306_101328070_HDR
Or Frost’s, Pasternak’s, or Lorca’s crow.
Or one of Homer’s crows, stuffed with gore,
after the battle. This was just a crow.
That never fit in anywhere in its life,
or did anything worth mentioning.
It sat there on the branch for a few minutes.
Then picked up and flew beautifully
out of my life.

~Raymond Carver

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