There was a part of the drive to his house where the semi trucks would craft themselves through the circling bridges to where at once they were right in front of you while just seconds ago they were lifetimes away
With the strawlined brush drifting past the smell of the hot ooze of returning inland
Pounding with the anticipation of waiting 
To drive the acres of suburbia 
To the king of the hill
Down that huge mountain turn left and turn left again up the hill and go down and then left and then pass the Home Depot down the winding road where all of the houses are blue and you can see where your childhood friends lived up above the burnt hay brush 
Turning up fast onto the quiet street home after home painted the same color echoing the same door the same structure 
Park not in his spot and wait by the garage for him to let you in 

We used to go swimming and lie heat soaked by the pool with sunglasses on 
Pretending to be cooler than everyone else 
Wearing a string bikini while kids ran around 

The crows would fill the sky every time I was there 
Huge flocks of thousands painting the sky black and everywhere you looked there were feathers falling and gleaming, tracing, circling in and out of each other 
I would stand with my head slightly raised and hear something beating it’s way through me 
To where sight was not fixed upon him but something larger 
Something more grandiose 
As wind flew around my head my eyes centered on the black engorging the blue 
Hair falling loosely around my face strands entering my mouth 
As I was dying 
They would whisper
Of how this was just a moment 
This was just a moment of death 
It never felt like death while I was watching them

It was summer heat 
And the breath of living someone else’s life 
I was as thin as air and would wear my big black shades like Françoise Hardy 
With a 50’s yellow dress worn backwards so I could zip it down in the front 
And we would walk through supermarkets and department stores with our eyes always covered 
There was nothing else to do there but go to the big chain stores or the movies or the same breakfast spot or the same record store or have sex or swim in the pool
Or watch the crows and fall breathless in the sight of watching the sky be overtaken to where you are all at once weightless
It was perhaps the most beautiful thing I ever saw 

He doesn’t live there anymore 
I could never go back 
But I think about the crows  
Mostly before bed or when I feel a similar clog in my throat like I used to have all the time during that time 
I can see them swirling my vision as I breathe in a touch of blue and black 
Hear them whispering of the fog of death 
To be reborn 
How this is just a moment 
Only a moment