In the distance
On the right side of my vision
A black bird rises up.
Moving to the left and toward me now here he is
Black wing stretched out like a flag.
The beat of his flight
The soundless pulse of the world
Bubbles out and through me.

And now it’s gone

The world is dead again.
The buildings across the street stand there
The bricks on top of one another.
Water drips
A birdbath sits with a puddle of rainwater in its cup of hands.
Up above and to the left the crow caws twice
I find him through the branches.
A moment later he flies away.