by Paul Aponte
Only crows can fly “as the crow flies”.
We have the volume within.
The pocketless billiards of discord.
Vete por la sombrita.
But, even in the shade,
keep moving. Keep looking.
The sky at night,
the quiet, and the sparkling stars
But we’ve got to keep moving.
The bed is only for resting in sleep.
The waking mind for moving.
Keep it moving.
“Pero cuando puedas, vete por la sombrita”
I tell myself.
The other day I saw a crow fly.
A tear knew it couldn’t.
In thinking of all the people in my orb,
their paths were not straight.
Some looked like a tree.
Others like a game of “Pick Up Sticks”.
Others, unexpectedly, like a sling-shot
-pulling back, then gone.
The clouds are parting.
The crows try to tell me something as I pass by.
We all keep trying.
©Paul Aponte, October 25th, 2021