terza rima

melting snow outside
where have I been
river opening wide

wandering again
back from Vancouver
piano twang din

hard to maneuver
bus sucking past
a picture mover

streets coming fast
bring me crow hue
light that might last

end of winter blue
what will I be
when my wish comes true

cream pouring from all I see
hand pressing a loaf of bread
eroticism of ice set free

salt fog keeps me fed
don’t just give up on things
my fortune said

wait for what the crow brings
wait for what the wind sings

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