Poem: "Crow in Training"
Wrote this today. Crow in Training condemned so many times/to be a crow Claribel Alegría, “Ars Poetica” The first time the caw-caw surprised me so much that I dropped it like a burning stick. Second time I repeated the cry with my head cocked to a side, to better determine the iridescence of its report. Just before the third boy fell on his rifle, a bullet through his eye, I emitted so full and round a call that the grizzled veterans coughed approvingly. I counted off my triumphs of the day, seventeen —there were many of us cadets in the gathering. The murder thinks my performance is promising.