Easterlies

A lone crow perched on a breeze bobbing bough  
clutching it like a floatation device  
with every bit of its feathered know-how  
foundering on high like a sacrifice,  
to Eurus, and full afternoon sun,  
blasting glory to every dancing tree  
in sky blue by the cerulean ton,  
and freshest barometric liberty!  
   
Soon enough, the crow abandoned its post  
to flotsam away on knackered wings  
perhaps seeking a branch, not so utmost,  
or to scratch the grass for edible things.    
   
Fare thee well, oh breeze beleaguered crow,  
but glory blows above...
                                  much more than below!