alarms raze i think i'm turning into one of them. bending brush over body to keep myself from falling. growling at interlopers. growing a thicker winter coat. leaping from one long limb to another. studying the sky for would-be winged assassins. that grey fingerless fist unfurling. four minutes past midnight, a cry too high to be human came out of me. the same sort of alarm they sound when they spot an aerial threat. come morning, a hawk was perched in a tree on the other side of this hedgerow forged from wood. close enough to carry me away. if it wanted to. 230124 what's it to you? who go blather from