Copper Waves, dulled light, cool winds,
dense fog upon the horizon.
Crows claws, click
upon the metal “No Parking” sign.
The wind blows at her neck feathers.
She picks up her claws,
While spanning her wings,
Off she soars,
upon a breeze.
Cawing in the distance.
The ocean dark,
and churning.
As if preparing for a stormy
Winter ahead.
Sailboats catch last moments
of sun in the crispness of fall.
The beach is quiet,
Visitors to a bare minimum.
Sea lions bark.
Cobwebs blow upon
the rear view mirror.
Dried leaves scratch upon the pavement
The highest clouds look like Blue Whales.
A young boy rescues his bike, with one stolen tire.
A seagulls shadow crosses from above.
Driftwood forts and sweatshirts.
The earth is alive in transition.
“The sun is different now,”
An old lady says to her old man.
Foreign languages linger.
The waves break higher upon the light house rocks.
The wind picks up dancing my hair before my face.
I exhale letting go of old postures held in the neck,
resetting the spine, releasing the jaw;
in love with written words, peaceful moments,
and the natural awe of wonder
found in simply looking around.
A sweet little picnic in the tailgate of a white pickup.
A giggling woman lays out a red blanket.
The crow can barely hold her feathers down.
Her beak turns this way and that.
The fog approaches closer to shore.
Clouds cover the sun.
The day grows duller in light.
Two crows join together.
***
Lilac Laced Love 