He leaned against the wall
And considered the shadows

Stippling the ground. Tree? Silo?
They were hard to tell between

For the cracks in his spectacle.
He tried to wiggle his toes.

No luck. Then he remembered
That he couldn't remember

If he had toes. What a relief.
Was that thunder? He could taste

Something yellow in his mouth.
That roar? Cavalry? Am I a thief?

Candleberry ran the wall.

He felt a tickle in his throat
And pulled out a black feather.

He looked up the willow for
Bird, and began a shudder.