Crows have taken the nearby point,
dark shadowy forms
against rough hewn rock,
reed-like feet an after thought
to their coal black feathers,
speaking in crow when one returns
with stories gathered from the sea,
of how she stirs, lifting her veil,
shocking us with her ancient face -
us I say though featherless
and clumsy as a falling leaf
but smart enough beside the crows
to wait upon her beauty.
