Kristen de Kline #161 The light

I'm beginning to see it

three black crows
don't flinch

the tree buckles,   wind 
sweeps,     tin cans rattle

a crazy white cat
preens along a window sill

he purrs too loudly, high
above   and   flying

between station chimneys
pigs on the wing     linger

do they speak in tongues
do I listen to their lies

sky blue, bursts of sun:
it's coming for me

the lawless
walk
free
into the light

I'm beginning to see it