levels of grey have filtered through
all the stars have gone to bed
all their egos masked in red;
elements of life are still quiet
indoors remain to avoid the indictment,
lights inside have all gone dark
but the dogs outside continue to bark;
thrills of silence chill the ears
eliminating most of our fears,
garbage bags of leaves sit idle
against the wall that has no rattle;
large birds on branches sit a while
smaller ones fly coast-to-coast in
their relentless search for food
and protection from the seasons;
a mellowing grows out of misunderstandings
tempered by the changing climate
and those who have no thoughts of their own
save the ones held onto for survival;
deans of the sky fly curved around
like an edge of a funnel they navigate
looking down at all of creation
wondering who divided this nation;
obediance is the footstool of subjugation
and we are the last ones to be told
yet the first to arouse suspiciion
hearing fools say we are too old.
4 October 2021
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