Away from the rank coronations
of industrial estates which confuse,
The feather tufts of night’s parliament
are flapping incognito between conifers.
Carsick starlight peppers their feathery tufts,
triangulating scuttering vermin below.
Vibrations slip into rents, spiralling into brains.
These delicate tears bookending indifferent orbs,
below serrated feathers, within thin skulls.
Moon-lit symmetry split by candy corn beaks,
bent to cancel central nervous subscriptions.
Never a cry to alert others.
Never a wail on approach.
Radio panel heads hover above; rents alert.
Cadaverous feet swoop!
Cadaverous feet scoop.
Back upon perches, pivoting reaper weathervanes,
turning on the wind.
Rents search for whispers from daily bread.
Quiet flurries of pirated fur gather in piles
at the tentacle roots of Scots pine and oak.
Featured Image Credit: Pexels / Somya Dinkar
