March 29th 2016

I returned to last night’s haiku, dissatisfied—a poem of only a few words; but the brevity compels: somehow expressing a part of the world’s beauty in the space of a breath.
····at the crow’s back—the starlight still
········in its eyes
Every morning I look out the wooded back lot. There’s a tree that’s been dead for years and one crow that, mornings, always favors the topmost branch.
144 March 29th 2016 | bottlecap

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