She sits so still, yet I know she's there,
With tangled hair and an empty stare.
I caw my greeting and spread my wing,
Bringing her treasures, an offering.

Her lips don't part, but I hear her plea—
Her hunger calls in silence to me.
So I tear from her shoulder and pluck from her side,
Gently placing the pieces where her own hands can't hide.

"Eat, little one," I croon to her ear,
"You must stay strong; I'll always be near."
And when I see red trickle down to her chin,
I know she's grateful for the life I bring in.

— A Corpse in the Woods , 10/2/24