Crows out and about on brown fields: laughing, betting with each other over who flaps best.
Pylons cutting up the sky. It'll be ready to fold and glue in a moment.
Pylons among trees agree on many things.
Old paper stuck at the bottom of fences for long enough tries to imitate leaves.
Empty offices uncertain if they're waiting or abandoned
Ruffled hair on the train,ruffled hairs,millions of rufflings,ruffle ruffle ruffle.That's us.
No ends. No beginnings. Only change.
Quite a few bumble bees have reckoned it's safe to come out. I told them they missed the snow. They said, we know, we know, we know.