And the crow wrestled
With something glinting in the grass.
I watched him.
I thought, it is some piece of trash
Thrown from a car
Into the green,
From waste and disregard.
I saw him tense
- Quiet -
And witnessed a pause
Before he floated –
Not flew, but floated
Or slid along the sky:
The moon in his beak.
To the dark trees.
That bright, heavy orb
Which elevated
Even he with the strong black wings:
The moon who told me
You're a mother now:
It's time to leave…
--SJM: 17th May 2008
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(haiku)
Golden orb dripping
Tiny sparks of life and hope
Into my dark palm.
--SJM: 17th May 2008
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