after the full moon

frost seized the dahlias.

the white feathers scattered –

thief and prey are gone.

worms are slowly pulling me

into the ground, together

with the brown gold  

of the leaves. who

or what do you

want us to become,

together with these grey

and naked giants?

the trees are permanently

in lockdown, remind me of

what remains. a branch

breaks and hits the ground.

the change will go

still deeper.