The crows are confetti against this startling sunset
i've watched so many times, but the slow motion flight
of these birds circling like bubbles encircling a straw
carbonated soda in a glass, rushing downwards, spiraling,
what keeps them afloat? Magnetizing, mesmerizing,
wish I had wings
Flocks, herds (searching for words), colonies, clowders
(still searching), how do they read each other's minds
how are they the same mind and my mind can't find its friends
childhood friends, best friends
true friends
murder
There are some words that crawl under your skin and
make your blood itch, make you hyperaware of every heartbeat.
There are some smiles that crawl their way into the crevasses
of your brain, make you hyperaware of your skin.
There are some days you can't help but smile because
you're with your golden crow.
