Crow

Its feathers
sleek and flowing
Black ink dripped across its body

Coarse yet delicate to the touch
with mighty talons resting in the soil
and its stained beak
a deadly weapon

Stone still
only moving to glance at the world
staring into its future
in the endless blue heavens

Suspended in the thick air
a fresh breeze ruffling its cloak
and shuffling the tree tops
and ringing soft chimes