by Jen Drociak
Something happened in the spruce tree
under the cloak of darkness
Something happened in the spruce tree
to which no human bore witness
In the tree
where only the northern mockingbirds nest
In the tree
where only predator and prey can attest
Underneath the tree each week
I’d wake to find the feather of a crow
Until I found one foot with talons
What it meant I didn’t know
Weeks went by and then under the tree
appeared a pair of wings
Shortly thereafter
a skull with a fractured beak
Several months later, another bequest
in the middle of the yard
Fragile, a lone feather attached
a ribcage picked apart
I started feeling uneasy
wondering what I’d find next
I began wondering
if these signs were an omen or a hex
In some cultures
a crow is considered a good omen
and symbol of good fortune
But in other cultures
it symbolizes
death or misfortune
In the sky now at dusk
countless crows encircle the tree
and descend on its branches
calling in unison to me