Activity

All the insides of trees
along this street
lined left to right
have come alive with the
chatterbox and cat calls
of crow and squirrel.

The longer I walk
the louder they become
as if I signal a faster
onslaught of cold...

They hurry now into yards
a flutter, a flurry of
activity, the flicker
of brush tails caught from
the corner of my eye.

I turn the corner
and a midmorning sun
is melting vague glimmers
of frost from the grass
at curbside.