There was a raven perched
Under the moon—
Tilting its head curiously
At the lunar light;
Shining like a new metallic button—signaling
To the raven that it wanted to be plucked
From loneliness
And introduced to other curios the raven
Had rescued over the years.
The bird spread its wings—
Telling the button in the sky that it would be there,
Ready to unfasten what had been secured
For long enough.
The moon was now the raven's
And the raven's collection had gained
a luminary prize.