By January the pond
should be frozen over.
Birds the hues of Indian Summer
should shiver along the knobby arms
of naked trees like tiny ornaments
against a snowy backdrop.
Instead branches quiver in the breeze,
rich with rustling leaves of ochre green
and peeping hatchlings gaping blindly
from nests of twine deep in the crown
undisturbed by industrious squirrels
hoarding a bounty of seeds and berries
in abandoned dreys still draping
these living things that are
out of sync.
image by Getty