Crows patrol the yard looking for tidbits in the redwood duff. It’s their morning ritual and I’m used to seeing them. They accept that I pose no threat. Today one of them finds something interesting, picks it up, and carries it for a short distance, then drops it. A second crow bounds over to check it out. That crow nudges it, picks it up, and carries it briefly before dropping it. Both crows take a few more turns carrying and pecking at it, but it isn’t diminished. Likely it’s not edible, but it holds their attention. I’m curious too. It’s shaped like a dagger. A closer look—it’s the worn flight feather of a crow—just the quill and shaft with a few misshapen barbs. It’s barely recognizable but these two spend time with it. Perhaps they know the feather once belonged to one of them or someone from their family.
we won’t be
lives in northern California among seventeen thirsty redwoods. Her haibun and short prose have appeared in 100 Word Story, KYSO Flash, Mid-American Review, Modern Haiku, Moon City Review, and Unbroken. Her work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and widely anthologized.
Recent anthologies include Nothing Short of 100 (Outpost 19, 2018), NOON: An Anthology of Short Poems (Isobar Press, 2019), and Contemporary Haibun 17 (Red Moon Press, 2022). Her books include a prose poem e-chapbook, Qualia (White Knuckle Press, 2017), and an award-winning collection of short poetry, for Want (Ornithopter Press, 2017). Her latest collection, Miles Deep in a Drum Solo, is now available from Backbone Press.
42R Mill Street, haibun by Cherie Hunter Day which was nominated by MacQ for the Red Moon Anthologies, and selected for publication in Contemporary Haibun 17 (Red Moon Press, 2022).