Raven Days

by Andrew Hudgins

These are what my father calls
our raven days. The phrase is new
to me. I'm not sure what it means.
If it means we're hungry, it's right.
If it means we live on carrion,
it's right. It's also true
that every time we raise a voice
to sing, we make a caw and screech,
a raucous keening for the dead,
of whom we have more than our share.
But the raven's an ambiguous bird.
He forebodes death, and yet he fed
Elijah in the wilderness
and doing so fed all of us.
He knows his way around a desert
and a corpse, and these are useful skills.


  1. What a beautiful string of words for me to sit and ponder....I am living moment to moment, joyous one minute, worried the next, wondering when I will see the vulture fly overhead. Here comes the Raven to remind me I still have alot of fight left in me, alot of love too - behind that Raven is a glorious blue sky and a puff of cloud, urging me on, to beat my wings against the air, find a nice branch of tree to settle for the night.

    Your blog is amazing and thought provoking!
    Love, Mrs. Slug

  2. Really interesting perspective. ."....every time we raise a voice to sing, we make a caw and screech..." I have been giving myself permission to write what I truly feel. I wonder if this author faced any sort of internal conflict about writing to please and writing from the heart?

  3. A bit chilling - or - get used to it, this belt-tightening, this grimace of fear, this life going on anyway.

  4. That's kind of weird, to think about that. It's interesting.

  5. Knowing one's way around deserts and corpses... times have been hard for alot of people of late... I hope it doesn't get worse...

  6. I love that photo. I am happy when I see a raven, never sad. xoxo


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