A starling flies above the fading silhouettes

of jaded streets – toward its nest

where tiny beaks are silent and the traveller can rest.

The leaves contort and waver, auburn effloresce

on shedding limbs, a tree undressed,

and weary of its verdure- an addition dispossessed.

But underneath the molting tree, a family

of contrite mice are huddling

in foliage and salvage, and soon begin to dream.