Dark and light it soars, searching.
Nourishment for its soul, in the face of others.
It listens, hoping for the sound of permanence and purpose.
I saw it fly once, above me.
The shadow cast low and moved across my shoulders in rhythm with its hunt.
The glossy green hues danced in the sunlight, as I watched the weight of its cool black body float above the end approached as a whisper.
I wondered why the air resisted its force as the tricksters thick beak broke through.
As its lower mandible held tight to its nourishment, I wondered when the last
breath would be taken.
This trickster, forced open its long feathers to manipulate the air and to halt.
With one motion, the inevitable future, the end.