“motorcycle landing with my raven”

In the golden hush of morning’s lift,  
Between the mountains cold and swift,  
I ride my iron, chrome and black,  
My raven perched astride the back.  

Feathers slick and eyes agleam,  
He leans into the engine’s scream,  
Wind whistling wild about his face,  
A prince of darkness, full of grace.  

Thunder rolls beneath my seat,  
A hymn of freedom, harsh and sweet,  
While talons curl around the leather—  
We are a storm, and ride together.  

Down the highway’s curling sprawl,  
Past fields of wheat and cedar tall,  
His wings unfurl and catch the sun,  
We’re shadows fused and set to run.  

But now the journey calls a rest—  
The pines sigh welcome, so we nest  
Beside the lake’s unmoving glass,  
And watch the cloud-born moments pass.  

He croaks a secret known to air,  
His eyes reflect the wild we share.  
Here, in the hush where dreams have landed,  
Man and raven, brave and stranded.  

Metal cools and engines sigh;  
With beating wings, he climbs the sky—  
Alone, but never quite apart,  
My raven inks across my heart.

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