Archive for the ‘crow’ Category


gas fired heron

I am a smoky owl,

my eyes see best at night.


I am a disconsolate crow,

with a voice like sand.


I walk the path of the tree,

ever watchful red squirrel.


My arms are hawk wings,

slow beat through rain.


My feet are delicate,

the deer in me is swift.


I move low to the ground,

serpent in a stone wall.


I am the heron gate

to the still world of spirit.


poem: Sarah Fuhro

Pottery and photo: Sarah Fuhro

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