Passing Moment

To the right of me is the railroad track
To the front of me the street.
There are airplanes flying overhead
And ants beneath my feet.
As I sit here the sun spreads 
Its warmth upon my back
And illuminates, atop the pole,
The crow in plumage black.
As, on this clear mid-April day,
Life goes passing through
I'm sure that they all know I'm here
But I wonder if they see
The moment of this passing life
Shared by them and me.

~ Michael Bahm ~

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