colour of morning

[fledgist]

 no echo now but in the dull grey light

see passing birds that pause and watch us feed

our satiated faces lacking need

or understanding in their urgent flight

of what exactly is the human plight

or when our hunger turns into stark greed

the passerine just seeks an errant seed

and a safe place where it can spend the night

the human does not show the passing bird

this truth of life that everything's the same

since all of us make up a single cast

we're subject each of us to one hard word

as players in the sole eternal game

each doomed to pass in time into the past