A Raven, to a Wren
Bound about by this city, smog, steel,
Brother and sister bird-chicks, blindly
dreaming flight under its gray sky-shell
Feeling the outer world invisible,
closed and open spaces, winds and havens
What can we do, as yet unborn, untried,
but spread in dreams, in hope, our wings of words
and trace our arcs across this inner space
Preparing for a free wild infinity?
A poem I wrote to a fellow writer, long ago and far away. Never stop writing.