The trees clack
& sway as I walk
between them. Cloud-
shadows race over
the ridge, making the sun
flicker like a movie projector.
It’s thirty years ago, or twenty.
It’s just last week. I hear
a harsh cry & look up.
Right overhead, a raven —
out flying, I’m sure, for the sheer
hell of it — kites sideways
& upside-down into the wind.
It keeps pace with me
for half a minute, as one
might navigate by any
predictable thing.

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Dave Bonta (bio) crowd-sources his problems by following his gut, which he shares with 100 trillion of his closest microbial friends — a close-knit, symbiotic community comprising several thousand species of bacteria, fungi, and protozoa. In a similarly collaborative fashion, all of Dave’s writing is available for reuse and creative remix under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 United States License. For attribution in printed material, his name (Dave Bonta) will suffice, but for web use, please link back to the original. Contact him for permission to waive the “share alike” provision (e.g. for use in a conventionally copyrighted work).


  1. I’m loving the word-pictures your typography is making, Dave…


  2. marja-leena – I’m glad to hear this captures your experience as well.

    Pica – You mean the shape of the lines on the page? That’s cool. I don’t spend a whole lot of time thinking about it, aside from preferring a certain neatness. This one narrowly missed being cast as a paragraph of prose.


  3. Evocative poesy, Dave! And I envy you; I wish we had ravens! Around here we have to make do with crows and kestrels.

    That last line made the poem, tying the images together with an intriguing idea which highlights an essential difference between 2D and 3D modes of movement.


  4. Thanks, Larry. I guess ravens are a more northern species. I don’t think they were common here before the late 70s. They make a lot of neat noises, and they love to play in the high winds when crows are laying low.


  5. Man moves least. Bare forked creature.

    I liked this.


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