by Linda Imbler
As The Crow Flies
The telephone wire twangs as the crow takes flight.
He takes my secrets which he has stolen from me.
Crow; thief and hoarder of corn and data and even lies.
He misappropriates my sparkling, brilliant jewels of knowledge
that shine as cosmic informational baubles.
He acts as my enemy and with him I can not make peace
nor have we surrendered one to the other.
I build a high wall, complete with a shaky perch
from which I hope he will fall.
He in turn keeps his nest
just out of my arm’s length and line of vision,
hoping I will climb to recover what he has pilfered
and the plummet will bear my name.
So where is the lifting?
Will either of us see heaven?
Perhaps it is time for me at least, to step back,
gather new bushels of corn, data, and even lies
then take my own flight, using a lighter heart.
In the Dark
In the dark, nothing can hurt you here,
but your own unmet goals, unachieved,
your own failures, now all you have to fear,
grand multiple missteps, come as a thief,
collapsing hopes, progress pursued in vain,
sights set on the prize, cause you pain,
lost opportunity, cause you to think,
because what in the dark endangers you is
surrendered fulfillment of dreams you never do.