Observe the crane

The crane waits

at the verge of the river-bed,

fish swimming in its memory.

In search of its reflection, the moon

wanders, vanishes.

Swirls of roots tear into the earth,

in hunger.

The wind, sweeping up its troubles,

hurls the heat in all directions.

Pulverized, the heart whirls

like dust in a storm.

It isn’t just the earth

that overflows through its cracks

in heat and rage.

The crane

absorbs into itself all that heat

and boils within.

If only the crane would sink into

the whirlpool of its memory

and beat its wings,

the river might gather its form once more

from the scattered drops,

and walk again.

River, watch that crane.