Eyes focused,
fascinated,
glimmering.
Fly?
Unsure
yet
compelled,
towar­d
unexplored
infinite skies
welcoming
in every moonlit
Stygian
feather.
Faraway lights
stop,
grow tinier,
more colorless—
gone.
Is this home?
The Crow
calls quietly
over constellations
winking furtively—
two shadows dancing in chance dreams.