Observations of The Urban Spaceman

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Nestling down into the pile of leaves clustered at the base of the tree, Lars folded his arms to tuck chilled fingers into warm pits.

Plucked from their patches

hollowed, cut, and brought to life

wickedly they scheme.

Strong and stronger

as the evenings grow shorter

the shadows, longer.

Yellow, red and gold,
mulchy, slippery and cold,
fiery ice on tarmac.

	[Flash Fiction] For… on The Walls Have Eyes [drabble]…
	The Urban Spaceman on The Walls Have Eyes [drabble]…
	Jade M. Wong on The Walls Have Eyes [drabble]…
	The Walls Have Eyes… on #12MoW – March’s…
	The Walls Have Eyes… on 12 Months of Writing – F…
	Year of the Pig — A… on Year of the… [Haiku]…
	The Urban Spaceman on #12MoW – March’s…