Nature’s biological clock strikes <br />the final hours and the eventual end <br />to the advantages daytime holds over night. <br />There is little time left to prepare <br />as the noisy and chanting starlings <br />have already started arriving <br />from the dark side of once plentiful September color. <br />They take up residence in the thick shade <br />of the protective magnolias and pines; <br />still complaining about the heat of Indian summer. <br />Their diatribes, denunciations <br />and reviling scolds resound over those <br />of the loud and anxious migrating geese <br />who cackle with concern as they escape <br />the onslaught of the season's first frost..... <br />And as the last Robins leave the meadows <br />all is quieted and the night crawlers go back to sleep..... <br /> <br />2008 © TS<br /><br />Ted Sheridan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dirt-nap/
