The air has begun to adopt that
damp and coppery hint of decay,
every breath a syrupy drop of autumn.
Each morning
the chorus of birds that greet the rising sun thins,
its members gradually cashing in on their accrued vacation time
and jetting off to winter homes in Florida.
Tourists.
All birds are tourists.
They won't be here to see the snow
turn to viscera under the tread of our lesser travels.
No,
they'll be tanning by gated watering holes,
discussing the downward trend in early worm returns.