timeout

a consensus
of algorithms
decides the deer
should appear now,
at the edge of the garden.

Not a real crow but a
memory of one.
five eyes gazing at
five different directions
looking for something

to drink, to then process
to analyze, to return, to open
ports. Its legless body
a kind of server
thinking about light.

The neighbors’
children say, She is dead, say
Fold up your bed
and walk
backwards

It does not disappear.
The sound it makes, the sound
of modem spinning
its wheels, reaching
out for a connection beyond timeout.