A dozen crows

a dozen crows on winter wood  stand sentry over the stillness hard against the clear blue  of the day  three dogs lead their humans a top the river path  without them  life would be a lesser place just breath  without a meaning  for drawing it  reeds and spring call from within  their frozen fortress a reprise of  randomly recalled joy  lived once in the same life  refreshing a hoped for future    each moment  a delight  as he awaited  the inevitable  encounter   crossing the flatness  the Downs  just distant   in exquisite  English peace  Vaughan Williams and Walton  remembering  a childhood  and its certainty  not knowing  it was to be  that it had to be  her