View From My Window
A Ritual of Crows
Weaving in and out of car lanes, I mistook your smile
for a mating ritual,
and slammed on the brake pedal,
barely avoiding a head-on collision
with a semi.
The sky above me is clear and concise; the pavement
below is rich and dark and hot to the touch,
full of scorch marks.
A flock of crows is flying south for the winter;
the telephone pole is much too crowded.
-(c) Oct. 19th, 2002
for a mating ritual,
and slammed on the brake pedal,
barely avoiding a head-on collision
with a semi.
The sky above me is clear and concise; the pavement
below is rich and dark and hot to the touch,
full of scorch marks.
A flock of crows is flying south for the winter;
the telephone pole is much too crowded.
-(c) Oct. 19th, 2002
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A Ritual of Crows
A Ritual of Crows
