Thursday, November 13, 2003


Perched on the little
fort's roof, Raven listens to
a guide recounting
stories of the place to a
gaggle of high school students.

Raven has flown here
from the river to hear what
goes on when humans
think they have a bird's eye view,
but he hears nothing startling.

He takes for granted
his privileged position,
and wouldn't trade it
for a rung higher up on
the food chain. He knows the trade

offs well enough to
feel satisfied with his lot
of mobility.
The relativity of
historical consciousness

doesn't bother him:
his is a spirit moving
back and forth in time;
banking his wings cloudward,
or diving down hard for his prey.

He changes his mind
at the drop of a feather;
this is the secret
of Raven: he spins the world
on his axis of caprice.

Ciudad Bolivar

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