These Cells Are Passages

RAVEN
Says I am invisible in my feathers

That bird, leaf in her mouth, is not a dove, but a raven.

She cannot assign peace without squawking--
a cry that slices: a sudden cut in the sky.

Someone blurted, "I cannot tell the difference

between ravens and crows."

She is invisible in feathers. In-
visible, but with a deafening call, a tired song: nevermore.

That bird, leaf in her mouth, is not a dove, but a raven.

She, not elegant, but clumsy can only
drop the leaf.