crow lumbers branch to rooftop,
on steep wet black tiles lopes slope
sentinel to misty graveyard places,
day 's dreigh on bare bud branch.
a ritual, a distortion, a suspension,
a warp apparent against a time
we do not have of the intangible
present or of the ineffable past,
on this brim life ever trembles.
this day then release all epiphanies
to shores of ephemeral mystery,
fly from that huge wave of claws,
the seized sun, the moon´s doom
& soar raven dove over m. fuji,
the chasm, errant from its talons.
Copyright Robin Ouzman Hislop 2004
all rights reserved.