THOUGHTS FROM THE OVERGROWTH

Black night

Silvery flakes drifted downward.

Glittering in the bright light of the harvest moon.

The Blackbird soared.

A fleeting silhouette eclipsed its silvery face.

The moon,

on this sharp clear Autumn night, continued to shed its skin.

A silver white blanket covered the land.

A fall of moondust

The Blackbird sang amongst branches bare.

Creatures remained within forest and hillside.

Curious and not fearful of the silvery flakes that smothered their banquet.

The Blackbird soared

and silhouetted the moon.

Calling to kin and kind.

For the disk in the sky was both cracked and bleeding.

He called to his partner about the fire in the sky.

Flashing, brightening night and hitting the silver disk.

Its tears at the pain of its loss.

And the Blackbird rejoiced.

Eager to live in the half light of dark winter days.