Crazy Crow by Joseph Harker

what would possess him
to make a stage of the driveway
for his encrypted hopskip in
three-eight time–


some urgent fire is
smoldering under those
ruffled India ink shoulders


for perhaps he mourns
the loss of a secret magic
with words that are almost
forgotten language–


the depths of his eye
in turn reflect the beholder’s
like two mirrors face-to-face




Joseph Harker