The Crow

And The Little Girl

Something happened on the road,

Between Ballyhale and Thomastown, last night,

A mushroom hunt derailed,

When we witnessed, my three young children and I, a crow being hit by a car.

From the hard shoulder, in the rear view mirror, we could see him flailing against the asphalt.

In the car, Eriu cried,

the kind of tears that only

children cry for any being in pain.

'The man didn't even stop' she sobbed.

I was in a different place,

My awareness was on the gravity of the decision in front of me that might alter forever the tender eyes and hearts of those behind me.

Though I hadn't started it, I had to finish it.

We went, as crows sometimes fly too, back around to where he lay.

I got out of the car and knelt down on the side of the road.

The cars sped past, not knowing, maybe not caring,

that one of us was dying.

The children had their head out the window,

tears streaming down their face,

knowing nothing else

but that one of us was dying.

His right eyelid began to slowly drop, halfway down,

like a perfect diameter line we used to draw at school on circles when we learned about diameter and circumference.

Mis Madders must have forgotten to teach us about dying crows.

I put my hand on his chest.

My mind jumped to a book I once read; 'Are We Smart Enough to Know How Smart Animals Are'.

The crow can identify a person in a busy street who has been kind to them in the previous two years.

It is said that when a crow dies, other crows will gather around them. Scientists suggest, as scientists would suggest, that it serves as a learning opportunity to identify and avoid the cause of death.

Shaman suggests that they gather in mourning.

Either way, that's the eye that was closing in front of me.

Eriu, through her tears said the man might have not seen him. He didn’t appear to drop a joule, but I’m glad she gave him the benefit of the doubt.

The crow died. The mourning murder hadn’t shown up yet, but we stood in.

We turned again and headed, as the crow flies, for the mushrooms and the woods.

There's no way to tidy it all up.

That's just what happened,

On the road between Ballyhale and Thomastown.

Last night.

Dubh Dubh and the pet Jackdaw