Crows perched gracefully on the fingertips of Maples,
A backdrop of stars rose, slowly sliding west.
Drawn by the wistful drumming of my heart,
In the sky I traced their outlines, beaks nestled into breasts.
I asked them to keep watch as the night cast down a veiling,
Lighting on the ground, a softly descending dew.
And they took flight, traveling in moon glow,
To keep a midnight vigil, velvet wings to cover you.
© M. G. Iannucci 2016
Photo: Crow and the Moon