Sparrows fight with a hawk in flight
The dippers fade away
Slowly, sable turns to white
She left her sleeping bag behind
Left her pocket knife
A watermelon and a lime
I found a paper in my coat
Forgotten months ago
She stole my lighter so I'll use the stove
Saw a murder of crows move by
Purple with the night
While starlings murmured to silent types
Maybe August 29th
If I make it through July
Thank god for coffee and apple pie