Dirty feet scrubbed raw on the cold concrete of amphitheatres. Clouds of ragged breath gilded by scattered raindrops. A tiny songbird laying so very still in a sarcophagus of dead leaves. Soft chest still full of stale breath. Beak sullied, sunken eyes long scavenged. Emaciation unhidden by feathers. A somber and quiet sadness in the courtyard. Passed over in silence by the lofty steel wool of winter.

3:12 p.m. - 2020-12-23