the land bare

in January's

dim light

stuck in autumn

old wet leaves

on ground

where mice

should be running

in their

little corridors

inside

banks of snow

far from the

birds

and the fox

old wet leaves

of summer gone

beside a stream

singing rushing on

to join

a sewage outflow

the land bare

like mind

stripped of thoughts

left with

existence

01.01.2014