Unkempt borders and dishevelled hedges,
Discarded presents and forgotten pledges.
Against slate grey skies and muffled clouds,
Green spikes promise to sing out loud.
Twinkling ice and pitch black nights,
Twitchers scour for foreign flights.
From nostrils flared come steaming plumes,
Curtains draw on snug living rooms.
Fox bark breaks the midnight air,
We may raise a glass, for those not there.
Heavy he sits, then just slips away,
With no more fuss than night following day.