by Leigh-Ann Burley
A crow lurks in the shadows,
listening to a songbird
trilling on the clothesline,
white sheets flapping like bleached sails.
He believes that his coal-black soul will fly
if he captures her shining voice.
Diving into the songbird’s liquid throat,
crow plunges her pure light into his rugged crater
to reveal a staircase and
at the bottom lies the songbird’s crumpled body.