The sand sweeps across the pavement and over our trainers as we scan the beach and the laughing waves. You lean on the railing next to me, talking about how our heads never bumped in the years we’ve worked together and how it’s only now we finally see we had a friend there all along. Mr Crow stalks up behind you, eyeing the decorative chains on your trousers, captivated by the sun’s glint that has also clutched my attention. I point him out and we watch him strut, then make our own way back along the front. Those chains of yours clink together as we walk, side by side and in step, not knowing how close we are until our shoulders touch.
Safe in the nest. Safe in the nest until
the feathers fall into pillows ready for stuffing.
Downy softness to lull the head to sleep.
It hops. It pecks. It hops again.
Cocks its head to the side
with a measured eye, seeking.
Dreamer land. Dreamer land on the horizon.
Caw Caw Caw.