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.