between fear and freedom

black, black, the crow above me,
sliding and swirling over the gasping air;
stretched feathers on sweeping wings,
impenetrable shadow against the travertine sky.

I know this bird of the morning
who flies on the black, black wing;
I turn my face towards him
and with fierce courage, I do not blink.

here in the heart of the wind I face him
trapped between fear and freedom.