Soon
My neighbor cut his Maple tree down,
we only miss it in Autumn.
Soon January will trudge up the drive.
Winter has its long dull days
when for a while, the weather turns itself off.
In time, the low battery of daylight energy
will reboot.
Slowly from a dank darkness
the long hours will shuffle out of their daydreams,
a goose-grey sky will learn to fly
from a bare,
and as yet unfathered nest.
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