Energetic juvenile drops a feather,
connecting sky and river.
She’s not yet mature, but glorious,
larger than life—
though it might depend on your perspective.
The crows yell and flock around her.
She’s evasive, pretends not to notice. Simply
waves with fringed fingers, then out-stretched wings catch
a thermal. With not even a whisper, she flies out of sight.
I have things to do, but Jane posted random words, and the first two were so perfect that I had to write a poem instead. It seems Oracle II also knows everything, even what I’ve seen recently on my morning walks. 😏