willow tree

The crow

Over the isle of weight the sun pushed forkfuls of light through the clouds

A crow perched ready on a green and slimy breakwater

Then opened his wings and hopped atop a quick and cold breeze

His fingered feathers guiding him

to land an instant later in search of food

His wing span so large it flapped my thoughts away 

This is how I want to live

in amazement at this beautiful perfect world