Bicycle Poetry

The other day I was riding my bicycle home from work.  Crows were streaming overhead, gathering in preparation for their nightly communal roost.  They were coming from all directions, converging on a couple nearly nude trees.  The light was shining through the few leaves, the crows were calling to each other, the air was crisp.  Watching them, this poem came into my mind.  It was still ringing in my head as I pulled into the drive so I parked my bicycle--and before opening the garage to put it away--pulled out my journal and jotted the words down while sitting on the porch steps.

An Autumn Evening
Obsidian crows are gathering,
In the spindly tree holding,
The lonely golden leaf that's gliding,
Joining the night in falling,
Down, down, down.