A baby raven calls to me by the window. I’m high in the morning again.
———————Most winter trees
Those sacred assemblages of oiled bones
———————Will name the threat held within the unending gray skin of sky.
I feel foolish among the evergreens.
———————I want to ask them the forbidden question—Why?
One time, my friend, who believes in God,
———————Asked me how in a world of seven billion
Did I imagine I was alone?
———————A limpid afternoon. Creeping yellow
Slips down the rim of the horizon.
———————I had woken up already on that white, wild horse
Its bleak gallop in my dreams.
Kai-Lilly Karpman is a poet, educator, and scriptwriter from Los Angeles. Her work has been previously published in Plume, Dewdrop, Beyond Words, and others.
Photo by jennieramida on Unsplash
