Starlit moments lift the soul.
Moonbeams tickle tops of trees.
Sunlight bathes the flower pots.
Left on the patio drinking in the sunsets and dawn breaks.
Raindrops fill the sullen skies.
They empty their image.
And the sky becomes blue.

The birds are flying and landing.
Landing only to pick at seeds.
Seeds they can't get at.
They're under the glass.
Transparent.
Birds only success, picking at weeds.
So they just remain hungry.
They feel the pangs.
They listen, from a safe distance.
Hearing the farmer's gun as it bangs.
(c)Livvi