The Sprightly Crow

Crow v2_0

The Sprightly Crow

The summer day was drawing to a close

The sun had doled out heat in an ample dose.

A silent sigh and an audible hush

were permeating the air like a bride’s blush.

A gentle breeze started to blow

caressing and soothing—infusing a glow.

Wilted life began to revive in the cool

in accordance with nature’s rule.

The single crow perched, on a high roof,

and held itself aloof—

happy without a tether

with the wind ruffling its feather.

Shiny black and free stood the crow,

sprightly and all ready for some show.

Just watching the crow was a treat;

the bird made life seem simple and sweet.

Note: wrote this poem several months ago, as I stood on my home’s terrace with the sea breeze cooling the brow and watched a lustrous crow descend on a rooftop and enjoy the breeze just as I did.

It was one of those instances when you realise you are but part of a whole, and the other creatures are as much a part of the whole as you are.

Have tried to sketch the crow just as I saw it!

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