November already, Autumn on my back,
Now where is there to look?
Eyes closed or stare through black.
Darkness gives life a break. Trees, thickets and slugs pause,
Humans expected to continue, power on through this icy bitter world.
The sleep of trees and the boom of lights, fizzing, illuminating a path to artificial heat,
And the drying of external cells crispy, heading where?
Small brains and scales, retracting into shells,
Bright little tortoise children. Only to recharge like i phones.
Helpless in the mist of seasonal change, amongst a wake of light.
Days like light sandwiches.
Black and cold and night.