Wine with Crows

We sat, in end of day repose

To speak of evenings drawing cold

And grass with moisture in its folds

And share our wine with crows

One, bolder than the rest

Climbed high, as if to rise and reach

A silver phantom, caught in sun’s

Descending rays out of the west

Within the moment’s crest and hiss

What thoughts, I wondered, passed

As pictures, sounds and smells

Upon the waning summer’s kiss?

©Stephen Tanham, 2020

Stephen Tanham is a Director of the Silent Eye School of Consciousness.