The Linnet's Wings The Winter´s Tale, Ravens and Robins - Page 95

The Linnet´s Wings IN PRAISE OF NO GOD by Kathleen Cassen Mickelson Backyard spruces cradle snow, boughs bent yet strong enough to offer a foot of purity. My arms tire after two rounds of shoveling. I rest on the handle, grateful for strong limbs. In the half-light before sunrise, crows wing their way to the woods half mile to the east, a daily habit. I hear their mingled voices rise, wish I were beneath their trees, an offering of my own in hand. Not that they need me. I need them, their black swoops overhead, raucous calls reminding me there are other ways to live, untethered from whatever this is humans have created. Would I shrug off this life for a briefer, leaner, wilder one? No. I will make it enough to consider the crows’ view, their sky-high wisdom. 95