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.