The Crows

 Dawn spread her fingers through the morning greyness
As I rode my bicycle to the pool.
The cool morning air filled my lungs
While crows made fun of the swimming bag on my back.
"No food falls from the bag," they cawed.
"Silly man rolls down the street without singing his song."
The crows caw at me at the pool
as I swim, and float, and fly in the water.
Crows stand on the wall judging my flight,
my floating and my strokes.
"He's pretty in the water with his skinny featherless wings.
Hey you! Down there!," they caw
"Sing your song to the water spirit.
Sing it loud, Sing it from your heart."