No paper out here for me, nor Santa Clause.
But your friends the crows salute me. Two days ago
I saw a hundred fly by. Their shrill caws were cause
enough to pause. If I could sound out just so--
the way you do sometimes, talking to the sky,
I would make a speech in crow language, and say
how on this cold Christmas morning I
hold you in my thoughts. And how today
the only present I need is the certainty you
exist. And so I pause here in my robe
and send you greetings with this dark crew.
Can crow talk go half way around the globe,
to where you are opening who knows what fine
gifts? No matter. I am content with mine.