Sensory Incantations: A Crow

The slow rumbling of chocolate granola, cascading from an airtight container into a bowl, punctuated by the loud beeping of a TV commercial.

An empty coffee cup, wide-rimmed, earthen-brown with a big handle … every sip, savored.

Wisps of clouds dot a deep blue sky … disconnected, reaching through gaps, like friends who’ve lost touch.

Faint signs of the wind picking up … the dwarf umbrella tree shifts, its leaves lightly slapping the bay window, unsure if it wants to be noticed or ignored.

A puppy, curled up tight against an off-white, deeply ridged cushion. Eyes half-closed, body softened, almost dissolving into the rust-colored daybed.

A crow flies by — swift as a thought from the past.

A red brick wall, standing witness to the passing of the day, holding space for light and shadow equally.

A trellis, bearing the weight of a jasmine vine that has yet to bloom.

Saturday morning, unfolding.