Death, be a Raven. Be a big, black bird with an absurd, rough call. Fly black & awkward & observant into the blue, arctic air at the town dump to land on the highwires & chimneytops. Be intelligent Death, with the malicious intelligence of Raven, whose every movement is a raucous insult to life in a colourful, clapboard house. Death, be a Raven, big & black & fearless. That's what I fear about you Death: that you are as inscrutable & humourless as a rock's shadow or an expired breath. Death be a Raven for my catnapping mood & my fifty-odd years on the grass below the trees. Fly to the rooftops of other peoples' houses & I will respect your coalfeathers & your prancing tapdance of mock doom. Death, be a Raven on the rooftops but do not perch at the foot of my bed to preen your horrid, inky wings, not tonight, nor tomorrow night. It would not be funny, not at all Go away, big black bird... & leave the dog alone!
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