Limp head and tail draped on the top rail,
a raven skins a young ground squirrel
that looks like a snake from a distance
I try to improve by posing nonchalantly
as an unfocused old man with a camera
puttering without direction. On the cusp
of summer, of green bleached brown,
and busy exposing bare ground, the local
crows and ravens keep track of me.
He drops low to coast hidden behind
the trailer, then just over my head,
black chisel beak dripping with entrails
towards where a nest ought to be—
just to show me he’s watching, and like
a mouse on the doorstep, earning his keep.
drycrikjournal 