Patient tree

Heavenly cold flurosence touching my skin
a holy crow up above me inquistly domin.

Upon the talons four roselias glide dividing at lasts breath
tailor wind a slice, cooling upon a windowsill.

Face in wholesome jest, indian minors canvassing the grass
is this in whom nature pass? I haven't fear of this cold.

Minors four in swoopful vest, an upfront approach
these birds in belly nipful gast, taketh now my time

Two, five, ninth & tenth glide those minors echo sounds in train's pass
do all these birds in lovingness, a twirping comfort at silenced glance.

Minors at rest, rosalias at bay a Crest pigeons play
their singful cries cut in two's glide, do I and a pigeon fly