E Poe Raven Bruce

E Poe had this raven he'd write to. The raven's name was Bruce, who had been raised by Jesuits in Philadelphia. How Bruce ended up in Baltimore is a whole story that won't be told here. Bruce thought Poe was a likable nitwit. When Bruce wasn't tapping on the window for snacks, he'd fly to a church steeple and let the weather-vane point him in the direction the wind was blowing. On the wind the raven could smell the forest from across the river, the warm tiles of the rooftops, and the time of the day. Then Bruce would get hungry and fly down to look for a dead cat to eat the eyes out of, or for tidbits washed over by the drunk smelling funk of E Poe. Sometimes Poe would hide under his desk when Bruce arrived, especially at night. Then he'd recover, rub his eyes, wind a clock, or light a candle. The shaking would go away as he drank, and he was always writing. With bright black steely eyes -- the eyes of an unrelenting & uncompromising, yet sympathetic universe, Bruce watched. Bruce was logical and responsible, in his witnessing.

*

When spring came, Bruce fell in love and few away for several months. When he came back the building was empty, but in the cemetery there was a black casket with E POE written on the lid. Bruce landed and tapped on the lid, tearing up flakes of wood. He tapped again, no scratching came from within, E Poe was not there. Bruce knew he was somewhere. Puzzles, puzzles -- his little bird mind couldn't unloosen to know what he thought he could know.

*

At night the yellow moon reminded Bruce, slyly, to go one more time to E Poe's rooms. That was easy. Bruce winged up and saw from the skylight there was E Poe, shimmering in the darkness, no candles necessary now. Bruce swooped down to land on a shoulder, but there was only air, he cawed in reproach, but all was forgiven. Then Bruce saw a finger of moonlight touch the mantle, and there was a smaller E Poe, behind a flat square of glass! And Bruce was pleased, because the imperceptible E Poe assented to what Bruce saw, and Bruce knew it was E Poe's soul.

Knocking it down was easy enough, and broken covering, Bruce speared E Poe's spirit through the heart. Bruce showed E Poe the thing he had done, and Poe sat there and bowed his head with a smile. Into the card he climbed.

Through the skylight rose Bruce, with E Poe, over the town, past the steeple & weather-vane, they flew. Aside the moon, they glided, to the river high with tide. There avoiding the muck, Bruce let E Poe go with a flick of his dread beak, like a chip on the water. The moon was like a white light, reflected on E Poe's tiny face. It bumped and winked, and then was gone.