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"The Raven" (by Joe DiMino)
The raven had a broken wing
An act of God I now believe
Landed him
On my doorstep;
He did not ring a bell of course
Yet somehow a sense of ringing
Told me as well
To open the door (My impulse unknown);
I saw truly a stately bird
Un-startled un-flown
Across the saddle he stepped
Having posture of a sultan,
Upright as a king
No words to describe such dismay
I said not a thing
Did my best to sling him
Tape and gauze
No complaint
Not a hint of discomfort
Nor fainta seasoned pilot
Seemed he; and I the lowly man
Loyal and attendant
A table box, his temporary shelter,
I could not keep him in
We played for seeds
I let him win
My joy in the giving;
We played for strokes
He let me win
A game of sharing;
He healed and flew away
And to this day
Every raven
Or owl or hawk
Great eagle seen often only aloft;
Any whatnot with wings
To lift it higher apart
Above the woods
Many heads above me
Stalls in my air
Lets me climb aboard
For gliding and soaring