Raven wings wrap
a cloak of night and tenderness.
Goddess of war and death,
the tales are skewed,
as all tales of women strong.
I have seen you hovering,
yet heard you only once:
when you were disappointed
about a boy not worth the trouble.
‘No daughter of mine
shall bend herself so for a man!’
A crow flew by smacking my face
with a wing of night and tenderness.
Message received.