What Crows Know

You wake as a warbler
while I wait for my crow to call.

You turn from the argument next door
just as I bend in to hear.

You sing with the commercials
and I imagine all of Hollywood burning.

Don’t imagine I am immune
to the kittens and babies and laughter.

I understand how light works
because I am the host to darkness.

So stretch and yawn and rise
to meet the day with your own glow.

It is my job to speak for the dark
when its value is being ignored

by those who forget that morning
is a dependent function of night.

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