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for the birds A neon bound hovel,
A temporary haunt,
In a forest home away from home.
Near nests of tinder and shine,
I depart down my path
Greeted by neighbors
With sooty eyes

Three, screaming every morning
From high atop a pine-knotted perch
Black-winged and startled
Diversion centered, to sway an answer
Right left no the other way stupid

An afternoon return finds
A gift dropped to me
For my straightline descent
An angel's feather dipped in ink
Soft inhalation and realize
Crows smell of baby powder

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