A brief break in storm rains
Creep outside, muffled to the eyebrows
Breath billowing ice-clouds before you
No moonshine filtering through heavy clouds
Senses change from sight to sound
To scent for Mr SL
Sniffing, shuffling, old boy
Round a corner, rain falls anew
Icy, spiky, pin pricks on your face and hands
Then you hear the music of the night
Peeps of frogs behind garden walls
How do they survive in this man-made land?
Somehow a little spark of nature
Seeks to reclaim our invasion
And the night no longer seems so cold.