THE WIND PHONE

How I Grew to Love Crows in The Cemetery

Navigating grief without a road map, I began to collect feathers

Photo by Michael Jerrard on Unsplash

It was on my brother’s grave I realized how sharp blades of grass can feel. There I lay, the grass itchy and damp. I had to be the strangest person in the world. Who becomes so obsessed with a loved one that they lie above them, crying…