Compass

Say only what is there

Against a sky innocent of color
Over cream gold buildings and blue grey steel
Fire escapes and railings, next to a red
Neon sign whose color could be blood
If this were about blood

Roofcrow rawks, spreads
Its old umbrella limbs, flaps off
Wing feathers splayed like talons
Rake air, a violence

This is not about violence
This is about a bird shaped hole was riven
Through the sky forever
But that hole moved and spoke
As if it lived
Crow black crow
Your mind's a bright

Needle; you know where you are going.

Copyright © 2001 Amy England All rights reserved
from The Flute Ship "Castricum"
Tupelo Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission