For the Ravens
Don't you know I would give anything
to be one of you?
Don't you know
how desperate I am
to fly out of this skin?
I don't belong here,
and if you don't even know
I exist,
I don't belong
anywhere.
Sometimes I perch on my porch railing
and wonder if I wished
hard enough
and jumped,
if feathers would push through my pores,
if my bones would realign,
if I could pump my new-formed wings,
defy gravity, and join you
in your tree. I stalk you
in my free moments,
talk to you in parking lots,
and the whole world thinks I'm mad.
The least you could do,
from time to time,
is look at me.
By Drusilla NicGowan
Drusilla NicGowan reads "For the Ravens"
Drusilla NicGowan
Drusilla NicGowan just received her MFA in poetry at North Carolina State University. She has had several poems published recently and won Honorable Mention in NCSU's Academy of American Poets Award. She is now back at her home in Tennessee, reunited with her husband, two cats, and three Great Danes.
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