subtext

1.

three crows cross the yard

oblivious to the time, and

with nowhere to go

I spend the morning singing

as I pull weeds from the earth

2.

three crows cross the yard

then vanish in the new leaves

which cover the trees

I see only their shadows;

they are gone when I look up

3.

three crows cross the yard

their blue-black wings stir the air

with tessellations

this poem is like all the others:

old patterns within patterns

(March 30, 2023)