Crows gather in trees and the wind blows them
away, their black cries catching the air like
wings. I watch the line they make: a dark hem
against frail branches, stitches so unlike
the raucous perseverance of the birds.
Their colors blend as they move near the sun,
they catch my eye and circle me like words
seem to do, lists and poems, an endless sum
of alphabets that swarm o’er the page in
dark rainbows, these crows I cage between blue
lines. But have I caught them (triumphant grin),
or have they caught me, their wings swirling through
my throat and my heart, my smooth shoulder blades?
It is all the same, and they whirl away.
Avery Olund-Smith, Copyright 2010
Used with Permission
Thank you to our fabulous nieces, Avery and Lydia who, as you can see, are both quite talented; the poem was written by Avery, a freshman at Indiana University in Bloomington. Both pieces of artwork were done by Lydia, now a sophomore at the Cincinnati School for the Performing Arts. The pumpkin picture was done when Lydia was about 8 years old; the witch picture was done when she was 5 or 6 – these girls just make us smile and laugh and we love them both!