"Sunflower Seeds" ~ 2016 1 1

Three birdies in a tree in the dead of winter,
no leaves at all to see, at length do they banter,
until I walk on by, then they decide to fly,
how vast and wide the sky, a pale blue, the air dry,
the cold burns off my ears, so chill, I cannot wait
to get indoors, my fears lessen, then abate.
On the bus, my disgust grows enormous and fills
me with contempt, the trust in others lost, the wheels
keep turning, a woman spits seeds onto the floor,
New Year's Day, when we span our actions (in horror)
over the length of days, the year to come unknown,
what we see, with the grays of winter make the loam
fertile, the soil to till, only now do words come,
like birds with songs so shrill, they wake me from slumber.