Lines

I struggle to write lines.

Searching for mind music, words to dance, a hint of rhythm,

I look for inspiration.

 

A triangle of mountain softened by cranes

Curving its edge, winging one after the other

Beak to tail, tail to beak, an unbroken line

The leader whoops “stay together”.

 

The field glistens with crows

Black patent leather wings gleam.

As if lifted by a thread, the leader flies,

The others follow without a sound.

 

Beneath the bridge the river is disrupted

By a thin low shell skimming the waves.

Oars dip as one in perfect propulsion

Captain calling cadence, the team coheres.

 

The poetry of the earth engulfs me

With a smile I understand, weak as they may be,

My efforts add to it.

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