A tease of miracles, the raven rose just over my head
clasping a giant red jelly bean as it sailed above
the pine tree. I hiked the Santa Fe Southern rail
where it showed cleanly as any saint
its attribute, a vulture’s engorged beak.
Pinon-perched or swooping the currents
she’d likely tracked the bonbon
among this Eldorado Easter morning’s
hard-boiled chits of rebirth
blown-clean and faux.
Rising out from the sand, her wings sang wind
beak clasped around the burning egg.
The raven carried fire’s shine
its infinitely mirrored tunneling
a meaning I couldn’t ken
soon to be unleashed on Los Alamos
after the Lab’s prescribed burn.
Eigner’s Cornstalk Mother, Pudding House, precedes the forthcoming, What Lasts is the Breath, Black Swan Editions. Also: Adobe Walls,Blue Mesa Review, Earthships, Echoes,Hawaii Review, Manzanita, Mudfish, Natural Bridge, NM Poetry Review, Poets Against the War, Sagarin Review, Daily Bleed, Poetry Foundation, SFLiterary Review, www.eignerdanceswithwords.com (poetry & dance).