100-Word Fiction: ‘Ends’

How we think about life when it ends.
The morning streetlight amber, off in an instant.
The geese that fly in and then loop back without warning.
The frosted cars idling by the pavements.
The early fog that lifts slowly above the church tower.
The shock of violas trembling in their pots.
The blackbird that hops off into the thorns.
The branches that fade from green to black.
The accretions of mud at the edge of the path.
The hold that autumn has, though winter must come.
The leaf that will not be shaken.
But it will be shaken, now.

100-Word Fiction: ‘If Just Once Those Birds’

If just once those birds
That scatter snow from the tall tree –
Its branches shaken from white to green
By whirled circles on the wing –
Would cross to us and feed

If just once those birds
Would cease from flailing
And flashing their colours
To the phosphorescent sky
And be still

If just once those birds,
As the yellow lamps
Light to stain the day,
Would linger and tread
Our path

If once those birds
Would trust
Our nails and wood
And feeding cage

If those birds
Suffered the troubles
We went to

If those birds
Saw humans
In snow