Your eyes don't shine in the suburbs.
No light is offered but that of dim, benign streetlights.
Their offerings don't shine bright enough to elicit a glow in your face.
The big city lights shine so aggressively that you can't help but sparkle under their flare.
I count crows.
One for sorrow...
Two for joy...
For the past two weeks I have been haunted by sightings of single crows, their somber solitude sends shivers down my spine.
I crane my neck and strain my eyes in search of a second, or even a third, to nix the omen of a lonely crow.
Never another in sight.
What could they be doing all alone, other than breaking my spirit and quashing my heart?
Have I fulfilled my own tragic prophecy?
The only thing that's keeping me from being happy is a circumstance I made for myself.
A decision I made, uncoerced.
Sometimes you have to hurt yourself to be able to grow.
It hurt.
It will continue to hurt.
But I will be better off when it stops hurting.
Today I saw two crows.
Tonight, under the lack of suburban light, I felt a presence that I could not see
And I heard the snow melting.
1 comment:
Remind me to tell you about crows sometime. I know things which are dark and things which are secret.
In every Great Story, the Hero will be tested, and tested, and tested, but we all live happily ever after, after all.
That is the promise of spring.
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