Crow

Crow. Pic for poem

 

oblivious black. a rag on a branch

and nonchalant at height

he knows the fall won’t kill him

for his wings will intervene and flap at the air

and make the lightness of being a natural thing

such ignorance, as I impute

is actually magnificent

implacable. mute. absorbed

it is only me who is troubled

so what if he wears black