Overnight, very
Whitely, discreetly,
Very quietly
Our toes, our noses
Take hold on the loam,
Acquire the air.
Nobody sees us,
Stops us, betrays us;
The small grains make room.
It is that time of year when decay becomes recylcing
a distributed breakers yard returning carbon, oxygen, nitrogen, and phosphorus to the soil and the atmosphere
Everything can be taken apart and the resulting elements used to start again
Gribin Isaf 