a single crow rested above the talking wires and those lines of energy’s hum held extended wings unfolded in a late afternoon sun no measured rhythm of fluttering wings just taunt tendons fully extended reflecting pointed blackness a ground gust gathered below leftover autumn leaves danced into a whirlpool and whisked upward to that perched, chiseled bird tilting somewhat tentatively for just a solitary flicker perhaps a blinked start but no more, no fluttered wings She then recovered to my wonderment and admiration that bird frozen in time on the wire dried her wings
Wanderings and Reflections