Crows

We put peanuts in our pockets. On the way
to the bus stop, drop them one-by-one. Above us,

crows write angry letters to the winter sky. Glide,
abide. The bone-white saplings curve their arms

around the Douglas fir. Every morning, my daughter
cries at the bus stop. She hates school and never

wants to go. I hold my breath until the van comes
and she steps inside. Until the crows debride the streets

of trash-day scraps. Lately, I have come to doubt
the wisdom of our mothers who used need like it was law.

You need to go. You need to listen better. The crows abhor
any rule but desire. They need the peanuts, paperclips,

backpack zippers, the gray-sketched sky.
The word need comes from root words for peril, pain,

and death. I mean, we need a new plan.
What do the birds make of my red-eyed girl? Of how

I hold my shoulders still? Of my long walk home, alone?
Of how she stands beside me, angry, mute. Of how the van

arrives, full of ghosts who stare, all kitten hats and wet,
dark hair. I put my hand up, but they’re gone. Well,

hell is how helpless we are. Other moms
hold leashes of small dogs and stare. The birds are

fucking everywhere. What is in your pocket, lady?
My daughter says a crow will never trust you once

it’s seen you near the dead body of another crow.
You will be anathema, in fact, forever

apart from crows, an enemy by proximity. She has no friends
in the sixth grade, she says. Kid, I am sorry that if I go down

I am taking you with me. That misery is kinda genetic.
What can I say?  When I was young? When you were?

It gets better? You need to go. The birds go back and forth
without complaint—each day above, below,

beyond the range of sky that I can see. Do they ever wonder
how to mend what they have torn? The governor says we need

to stay home now. Do our part.
The crows, hungry, continuously depart.

Hannah Craig lives in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. She is the author of This History that Just Happened (Parlor Press, 2017). Her work has recently appeared or is forthcoming in journals including the Gettysburg Review, Jet Fuel Review, Boston Review, and RHINO.

Published April 15 2023