Crow

Relaxing here in solitary

Looking out towards my left

I see the old Geelong Cement silo’s

At the top end of Autumn street

Three kilometres away

As the crow flies

The crow, flies outside my window

Below he hovers, above Autumn street

Ironically the street where we lived

For our entire thirty-eight years together

I’m nostalgic about every year

Reminiscing, and yes, I’m full of tears

Tears of liquid joy

Joy of togetherness, for so many years

And our old crow was always there

Perched in our lemon tree

Every morning the crow would sing tō us

Sing his ancient tunes

His tunes of memories and rhymes

Ivor Steven (c) 2018