I see stories in the sky.

I hear songs of old,

Sung by the whistling wind.

Hear harmonies in the skittering of leaves across the lane.

Stories in my mind,

Take shape against the clouds.

And in the space of the flutter of a hummingbird's wings I hear it.

The lonesome tune,

Of a crying crow.

And in that moment,

my thoughts flew.

Like a pebble in the road,

Kicked by the toe,

Of a child’s boot.