A thousand crows lie in a field, content with being hidden, alone. They sit, unbothered, cloaked in wheat, until a footstep sends them all in panic towards skies of grey.
I like this one. Tonite Jo and I went on a bike ride. We rode down a dead end road. There were thousands of birds (at least 1500) flying overhead. their tiny wings sounded like the roar of the ocean. it was intense
I like this one.
ReplyDeleteTonite Jo and I went on a bike ride.
We rode down a dead end road.
There were thousands of birds
(at least 1500)
flying overhead.
their tiny wings sounded like the roar of the ocean.
it was intense
this reminds me of my back yard sometimes
ReplyDeleteminus the wheat