Threeways

He sat at cross roads

looking three ways

perched in high stakes

on sticks that twist

and turn in round

soft nest.

Cosy and warm

held in mid air

beside strong trunk

silver in sunshine

sat little crow

staring North,

South and West.

Looking up and afraid

for danger

was far below

perched in daring show

precarious

in peril's path

he fell

tempted by mother's wings

from Threeways

where Trunk, Branch, nor Stem

could catch him.