THEY COME LIKE CROWS

Visions come in bits or pieces dreams depart, they fold they fly like crows they land squawking at little Tommy's feat Hailing claws tap at roof tops taking this praise in stride I tied my shoes, for the first time glowing I smile loud like Rain through open windows in dreams with bits of visions December thunder in moist sand again they come like crows, they land Like open sores in memory unfinished concerti broken moments of time they come a murder on cello strings Proud and clear vision sings of grand dreams that lurk in wait to fly like crows and land on roof tops once again to squawk Rick Slottow