The october sky beckons
robin, dove and wren
pine tag, dusty hairs, warm cotton leaves,
edging about scoping the landscape
for berry, seed and mite.
As the early blink
of the sun comes up eagerly sending
mice and chipmunks into a pure frenzied rage
to gather and bind all these things
twisting and turning
— as small moles run
scattered under pine tag looking, digging.
Tiny wren find worms
fatten up their young till
the sound of duck
their shrill calls into the amber sky.
Shadows fall sharp as the glint of the moon
has been blown into the sky
full now and glowering over,