In for Life
For Pat Benabe
Elizabeth Schultz
Out of sorts with oil spills and hot air,
she visited the birds, especially the crow,
who knew her now. She clucked at him.
He preened and polished his bill, searched
for something among his shiny feathers.
Nonchalantly, he strolled toward her
in his cage, clutching one branch, then
another, catching her eye ever so slyly.
She fed him a raisin. He cocked his head.
Through the bars, she stroked his bill.
She slipped him a glittering, Navajo charm.
He whisked it out of sight, stowed it away.
She wooed him back with another raisin.
He did not complain. He was in for life,
and she with him.
she visited the birds, especially the crow,
who knew her now. She clucked at him.
He preened and polished his bill, searched
for something among his shiny feathers.
Nonchalantly, he strolled toward her
in his cage, clutching one branch, then
another, catching her eye ever so slyly.
She fed him a raisin. He cocked his head.
Through the bars, she stroked his bill.
She slipped him a glittering, Navajo charm.
He whisked it out of sight, stowed it away.
She wooed him back with another raisin.
He did not complain. He was in for life,
and she with him.
Listen to Elizabeth read the poem here:
About the author
Elizabeth Schultz lives in Lawrence, Kansas, following retirement from the English Department of the University of Kansas, where she was Chancellor’s Club Teaching Professor. She remains committed to writing about the people and the places she loves in academic essays, nature essays, and poems. These include Herman Melville, her mother, and her friends, the Kansas wetlands and prairies, Michigan's Higgins Lake, Japan, where she lived for six years, oceans everywhere. She has published several books, and her scholarly and creative work appears in numerous journals and reviews.