and there…harold dreamt,
he dreamed of a boat,
one with a brown bottom,
and a rusty green rutter,
and it spun
and it spun,
the siem reap river,
of sunkissed toffee color,
he sailed on and on,
and stared at his brother,
he looked up above from the boat,
straight up at the hot steamy sun,
and his large white eyes,
stared up at a bird,
it was white and small,
with slender yellow legs,
that held a grace,
unlike any other
the crane flew in one circle above his head,
harold watched as it plummeted to the brown water below,
and at the last moment of its decent,
it shot up and across his horizon,
until it vanished
