Flight

The man said: ‘Write about this plastic crow,’
Pointing to the lifeless carrion.
He placed it where we sat in rows,
And told us all to ‘carry on.’

I stared at its unmoving eyes,
Struggled to force the thing to life,
And suddenly to my delight,
It jumped its perch in black-winged flight

And hit the floor with a hollow thud,
As it plummeted from up above,
The narrow ledge where the man had placed
Its unsteady empty legs and face.

But in my mind it soared up high,
And did not lose its dignity,
Piercing the air with elated cries,
Escaped the man and my invented imagery.