Dirt Nap Poem by Ted Sheridan

Nature’s biological clock strikes
the final hours and the eventual end
to the advantages daytime holds over night.
There is little time left to prepare
as the noisy and chanting starlings
have already started arriving
from the dark side of once plentiful September color.
They take up residence in the thick shade
of the protective magnolias and pines;
still complaining about the heat of Indian summer.
Their diatribes, denunciations
and reviling scolds resound over those
of the loud and anxious migrating geese
who cackle with concern as they escape
the onslaught of the season's first frost.....
And as the last Robins leave the meadows
all is quieted and the night crawlers go back to sleep.....

2008 © TS