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I wasn't expecting much

going through three doors,

the front porch then down

down crumbling brick steps


to a curved concrete path

(with vinca blooming blue

and an impossible amount

of ivy my husband planted)


to a curved concrete path

once paved for the parsonage

when this property was joined

with the Presbyterian church

next door, stone walls and all


I often wonder how many

bodies lay in this room for

visitation prior to burial

at the ecumenical cemetery


but that is beside the point

of going to the mail box

which most days is mundane

junk mail, as of late, three

birthday cards, three packages

nothing to get excited about


so there was little anticipation

reaching into the black tunnel

shaped metal with plastic red

flag, (so archaic but still useful)


finding a postcard with

a Forever stamp featuring Saturn,

sideways, "Hail and well"

in careful ink only a crow

would consider and choose


you see, the bird feeder

has been empty and the grackles

just went grackling elsewhere,

but one of them must have

complained to the blue jays


who gossiped to whoever would

listen until a mockingbird

murmured amidst fat mourning doves

only to be overheard by

a darkening of crows flapping by


one polite enough to send

a communique, cheerful and

encouraging, things much needed

on a suddenly sad mid-morning


so it is only fitting to accept

and acknowledge such kindness

such effort on the part of

a passing stray crow

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