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.