The Economy of the Mother-Creatures

A poem about a crow and the economy of mother-wisdom

As I slowed the car to turn into the driveway,
a crow pumped her wings hard and slid just above the windshield.
I noticed in her mouth the piece of muffin I’d found in the carseat
and tossed over my shoulder into the yard, unthinking, just before leaving home.

I smiled, then, to think of the economy of the mother-creatures;
all that’s scattered along the path without a thought
of the mothers walking just behind us
who will bend down to retrieve our discarded coos and corrections,
sliding the meager leftovers of our wisdom and patience into their bags,
and later lay them out upon their own tables with shining eyes.

---