Ours, Poetica Corvidae

License To Travel
by
Kit Kennedy

The boy's hand releases crows
folded precisely. Between fingers
paper is time, exploration
of the untested

Flight happens without knowledge
of thermodynamics, orinthology.
No experience with compass
because he has no fear

that ground is failure. He came out
of the ground of his mother.

Simple, the pattern. Arc. Descent.
The absence of light across light.

He tells no one
where he and the crows have been.

Take from the Green Poet Press anthology A Bird Black As The Sun: California Poets on Crows & Ravens (2011).