Raven, Helsinki Harbor

The raven stood in a baby carriage and croaked to passersby. Her voice was a purple softness, really not much.

Something about a dingy bird is a question—where shall we work and live—or how did it come to this, a thing called “in public” standing near the ocean among balloons and pies?

Where did the baby vanish to?

A breeze rides in with its assignment. A woman laughs because she thinks she’s partly immortal.