I am sitting in my chair

staring out the window,

observing the dreary, wet weather.

 Rain clouds hovering above the trees.

Each drop of rain seems to take a red leaf,

rip it from the tree,

and send it hurtling

into the wind.

I see something struggling in the gale.

It is a Raven.

Omen of death.

Could it be?

Sent to me from Odin, himself?

The Raven flies against the window desperately,

as if it has urgent news to deliver.

I yell, thinking the bird can hear me,

“What! What do you want?”

Almost as if in reply,

the phone rings.

It is Papi.

“It is your grand mami”, he tells me.

“She has died.

 They found her at the bottom of the stairs.

The doctor says it was quick and she did not feel it.”

There is silence from my end.

“Anyway, the viewing is in San Rafael,

So i will not be home for a few days,

Maybe even a week.”

“OK Papi”, I manage to mutter.

“I love…”

The telephone clicks,

and the line is dead.

“…you.”