First Place
2011 Random Poetry Contest

As the Crow Flies
by Regina Muray Brault

If I don’t call you, don’t lose your faith                                         
by breaking down a garret door                                                       
expecting to find a skeleton
still clutching her pen
like a spoon that fed her soul.
But look for me instead
where the lone crow circles
casting shadows on thick moss
and where the summer webs
like spun-lace doilies
drape a granite stone
to snare the bees.

I’ll still be in the skin
stretch-marked from weight
of three moon-babies in my belly
and the wrinkles
where some capricious crow
did a buck-and-wing across my face.
There will be faded stitches  
like railroad tracks
that lead to pillaged places –
a writer’s bump
a wedding band. 

I offer my redemption by lying
to his right like a missing rib
separated by inches
of cherry wood and ruffled satin.

Unlike Lazarus
I will stay put –
not break the crust of this blue planet
not search out my remains in fossils.

But if you climb these ancient paths
to find me
I’ll know you’re there.
Like moss protected soil
that feels the shadow of the crow
I always know
when someone’s standing in my light. 

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