A bird flies...
a solitary speck
it glides through the air
weaving its magic spell
of endless circles
cartwheels
somersaults
and nosedives
While down at the waterfront
assorted boats sleep
their water-lulled slumbers
filled
with great yacht race
dreams...
The loner bird
has vanished
flown off
into dissolving shades
of colour and hue
Replaced by a larger object
a plane
that leaves a murky black trail
of smoke
hanging in the air
Leaves rustle
the trees
seem to sway in time
to the sweet sound
of Emmylou Harris
her voice echoing
hauntingly
through this room
Here at the window
the senses take in
all that abounds
and these fingers
type it
into memory...
-Ash
