With a memory so liquid, Raven
can wear a cloak of black invisibility
observing gluttony, believing
in being haunted by blackbirds
and crows, raucous in their
cries and caws as these sounds
rearrange air and sky.
From an unseen perch,
Raven watches wolf,
sometimes friend, ready
to scavenge the fresh kill.
Raven screams “haaa”
for meat, hoping wolf
will hear, yet fearing
gluttony has overtaken wolf.
Raven imagines the wolf’s claws
parting Raven’s iridescent
feathers, its tongue and teeth
on Raven’s flesh.
Appetite, greediness, an urge
to consume is what Raven witnesses.
Even for wolves
falling into gluttony
is falling into an abyss,
not forgivable nor forgotten.
