Laying on twigs,
Invading tiny nests,
The birds need vests,
When feathers fail.
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.