Source: shadechamber
Great Auntie kept a raven under glass in her dusty living room full of curious things
Mother and I sipped tea there on Saturdays Mother and Auntie sipped and chatted While that long dead bird Stared at me with its glassy eye
I sipped seen not heard Under the gaze of this bird Wishing terribly for another cookie
The ladies gossiped and tutted Auntie even reached over and pinched my cheek “Such a good quiet girl”
The raven just stared at me Seen not heard Sealed in its glass
I imagined it soaring Under a blue mild sky Instead of being seen not heard At this Saturday tea
We had a lot in common That dead bird and me.
-Skye