Rocks falling shattered into pieces, suddenly a quick moving shadow flickers,
gliding through the trees, and I realized this spirit was tribal
a story of heartbreak and prior glory, never malicious
yet standing her ground, a firm foundation.
I wasn’t afraid, simply nodded
acknowledging the presence,
the smell of wood burning
lingering in the air,
and crow feathers descending
floating through the trees.
Poetry and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed