At the window
sounds of migration –
swallows chit-chat on wires.
They sense the cold coming.
Commuters, now wrapped
for winter, are of a mind:
there is warmth in movement.
Navigating parked cars,
they keep on, keep on for
bus stops and the metro.
A queue squats at the клек:
there is warmth in coffee too.
(Less so in headlines
the chill breeze stirs
on a newsstand; no doubt
we’re in for it again.)
As if mobilized for war,
birds continue to gather
in colourful uniforms
and those who’ll remain
fuss at what’s left to feed on
in long-ago fruited trees.
