I wasn't expecting much
going through three doors,
the front porch then down
down crumbling brick steps
to a curved concrete path
(with vinca blooming blue
and an impossible amount
of ivy my husband planted)
to a curved concrete path
once paved for the parsonage
when this property was joined
with the Presbyterian church
next door, stone walls and all
I often wonder how many
bodies lay in this room for
visitation prior to burial
at the ecumenical cemetery
but that is beside the point
of going to the mail box
which most days is mundane
junk mail, as of late, three
birthday cards, three packages
nothing to get excited about
so there was little anticipation
reaching into the black tunnel
shaped metal with plastic red
flag, (so archaic but still useful)
finding a postcard with
a Forever stamp featuring Saturn,
sideways, "Hail and well"
in careful ink only a crow
would consider and choose
you see, the bird feeder
has been empty and the grackles
just went grackling elsewhere,
but one of them must have
complained to the blue jays
who gossiped to whoever would
listen until a mockingbird
murmured amidst fat mourning doves
only to be overheard by
a darkening of crows flapping by
one polite enough to send
a communique, cheerful and
encouraging, things much needed
on a suddenly sad mid-morning
so it is only fitting to accept
and acknowledge such kindness
such effort on the part of
a passing stray crow