One Art (Chook's Version)

The art of crossing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
that one more road-kill's not a great disaster.

Cross something every day. Avoid the faster
lanes, but if you can't just think, for some percent
the art of crossing isn't hard to master.

Then practice crossing farther, spaces vaster:
highways, intersections, don't lament,
for one more road-kill's hardly a disaster.

I crossed a railroad track I thought my last or
next to last, still it would be no great event,
for the art of crossing isn't hard to master.

I crossed two cities, tricky ones. The fluster
I disowned. Then crossed a river and a continent.
I lost some feathers, but that's no disaster.

Even crossing you, (the joke I've heard, a gesture
for all birds) the egg is laid. It's evident
in the art of crossing I'm a master
though road-kill may look like (Crow it!) disaster.

© Renate Micallef