Poetry...

Approaching Dawn

As choking smog lifts,
what do i see,
three hundred crows,
float on the breeze.

The city is silent,
the citizens all sleep,
as the crows all rejoice,
in their hour of glee.

Not a soul on the rooftops,
no one to be seen,
as sweet morning dew
wipes yesterday's dirt clean.

Yet time rolls by
and the great city awakes.
The crows all disperse,
fly away till next dawn breaks.

[A simple piece on the simpler things in life. Sometimes one must simply step back and enjoy what nature has to offer (even if it is marred by what man has created). There is an elegant beauty to the dawn and to the crows which call it forth, whether it be in pleasant surroundings, or not.]