A Murder of Crows

A Murder of Crows

He stood on solid ground,

Holding tight to the line of a kite,

If you love something let it go,

So they say,

Easier said then done except when you are the one struggling to hold on,

A murder of crows gather and circle the plight,

Encouraging one to let the kite fly,

To be carried by the wind far away,

Never to be seen again,

But the memory will stay,