Days with no sense

For dverse.

Days with no sense

Days when nothing turns right
the light the cloud-gloom
the falling leaves
the shots in the wood
the wailing of dogs
the flight of deer across the grass
with no one to see
and weep except me.

No sound in the evening
though I listen for owls
only the chat haret
with her hoarse not-quite-mew
and the drip of cold raindrops
from the eaves
though the sky is clear
and the North star glitters
indiscriminately

while missiles fall like November snow
and no haven is safe
because no one listens.