Where the Crows Go
A winter walk, crows overhead, and a moment worth noticing.
With winter holding on, here’s one more poetic adventure through the snow with some of nature’s enigmatic birds.
The Crows and Me
We follow the path.
I move my feet.
Step by step.
They hop,
from branch to branch.
Stillness surrounds.
With a glance,
we eye each other.
Up and down.
Me, from below,
finding their black.
In limbs of a soft brown hue.
Silhouetted by a sky of blue.
They, from above see
spotting me easily.
In a coat so bright,
against overexposed white.
Minute after minute,
the crows watch me.
I keep them in sight,
from the corner of my eye.
I move so slow,
through the deep snow.
They hop tree
to tree.
And patiently,
they wait.
Partners in our goal,
steady progress.
We communicate,
and commiserate.
I approach the river.
There, we find each other.
On the shore,
to admire the ice.
Like never before,
a glistening slice.
Winter sun making
all shine.
Me on the edge,
Birds landing on shards.
Our world,
a scene rarely seen.
Just as precious
as diamonds.
Glittering bright.
A weight,
broken.
Yet,
revealing.
A blinding veil,
inviting all sprites
and spirits
to flight and delight.I’m curious what you noticed while reading this.