Sentinel

Still as the moon, eyes peeled, mind racing through three hundred and sixty degrees of focus,

The crow is witness……

(To Mrs. Lowry’s indiscretions, to Morten Anderson’s cat’s nap, to the slow
progress of the Reverend White’s fence.)

Silent….Superior… He waits… meditates….calculates….then arches his wings, thrusts his head forward and testifies.