Crows at Jasola Apollo
By Debbie N.
Perched on a lopsided metal box
its white lights twitching,
Their feet moved manically
Beaks intertwined like lovers
Wings struggling for air
They graze the off-white ceiling.
And when the shadows of strangers moved
Pushing me along the light of day,
I’d already forgotten their falling feathers
and the gleaming tips of their wings.
Grounding my feet on a windy platform,
I watch theirs,
Hanging weightlessly in space.
Shooting through a metal puzzle
With aluminum pieces incomplete,
they fill the uncolored pieces of sky
With black ink trailing the wind in their path.
They watch patiently from the black wire lines
that stretch miles and miles
and miles.
Lines drawn into the clouds
Smoky canvases of twilight oranges and baby blues.
And then they chase the blinking lights
that paint the never ending strips of land
A hazy crimson.
Their darkened wings gliding above the hurried noises
Above the dragging of metal boxes
and above the streams of dust sweeping us along.
Drowning in the sounds of nature and men,
I wonder if they also forgot
their way home.
