Poem for the first sunny day in Seattle

How the underside of the crow’s wings

glowed when it was dusk

and the light dropped so slow from the sky

a two-hour cue

and the spaces between the leaves went

from peach to pink,

and all about, a tapestry of birdsong

thickened.

I dangled off the edge of the earth

in sleep,

my legs lost all feeling,

my arms turned to wings.

About pinklightsabre

William Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
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