Telling the Truth

holly berries ooze

unclaimed rotting red orange

juice beneath my boots

* * *

Where have all the robins gone?

Does anybody know?

Please tell them their annual fall feast hangs ready

on twigs with prickly leaves,

though not for long.

Ripe berries succumb daily

to squirrels and gravity.

Please tell them

I miss their sweet greedy scolding voices

outside my window.

I miss watching them gorge with gusto on ripe red berries,

as they get drunk on red orange juice,

and drop ejected pits

everywhere

beneath my boots.

* * *

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 8 December 2014
Photo credit:  DAFraser, December 2014