This morning I saw a crow on the wire and when I called out to him, he seemed to look right into my soul. I wonder what he saw there?
Perhaps he saw love lost and found and lost again? Maybe some pitiful woman desperately hoping to be someone important to you? Because really, if I’m honest, that’s what I want to be.
I want you to want me, to desire me, to dream about me, to ache for me, to cry for me. And then. I want you to reach your hand out and tell me that I am the one for you and you are the one for me and that I’m worth it. Worth the hassle and the mud that is me.
I wonder if I wrote that out and rolled it up, if that crow would carry it in his beak to you as a favor to me. Lord knows I’m too chicken-shit to just tell you in person.
Then again, this reeks of desperation and a sorry, sad manuscript. Yeah. Best I let that crow fly off without the note after all. I’m sure he’d make a better companion than me anyway.
tara caribou | ©️2018
* please remember, this work has nothing to do with or about or towards the blogger mentioned, simply that I used their blog name/title/tagline as a writing prompt.
Thanks, Mark. Here’s #mygifttoyou
You write about all different kinds of things and in different styles. I like that because I have a tendency to fixate on one thought or idea so it’s good for me to break out of that sometimes. And it’s always so well thought out and written, too. ~tara