Crows going home
rise like loosed leaves
between the trees,
lifted as if blown
taking a free ride on the elements,
moving together in clan familiarity
Jovial caws speaking of evening
interrupt the reverie
from time to time,
counteract the sense
of wind being the only force
now that the last sun kiss
has left the sky.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 19, 2014
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