Hardly Stormcrows

Hardly stormcrows,
whose acumen does not
include subtlety.
More like the odd color choice
or misplaced stroke of the brush
that snags on spurs in the back of
the spine and slowly drills
coreward.
Clues and miscues stimulate
the gut before the mind.
Either I am skilled at
noticing truth and the surf is
slowly gathering wind behind
it, or perhaps, I create my own karma,
but I remember the rarity of
being wrong reading the tiniest
pricks of thorn and nettle,
the ones I refrain from
calling out large, today,
because I know, just as I have before,
today isn’t trying to hide,
and tomorrow doesn’t care.

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This entry was posted in Choices, connections, inversions, secrets, trust and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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