These evenings are almost perfect,
Cold and crisp, yet no bitterness is the air,
Just cold enough to wake the senses,
And bring your skin to life.

The air holds a smell,
A smell which always returns at this time of year.
The street is awash with beautiful golden colours.
Autumn trees so rich.

Within the darkening sky,
Lamplights producing wonderful yellow glows.

A tree stretches its branches out,
Towards the streetlight,
Surrounding it.
The lamp highlighting the brilliance in colour of the leaves
Creating natures beautiful lampshade.

In a cold damp station,
People standing around.
Canceled train.

I see four of them, watching,
With their big beady eyes,
Waiting...
Quick glances between them,
Challenging each other.

Another person comes around the corner.
Walking closer.
Off goes
.one.
..two..
...three...
But the fourth does not fly away.
He wins his game of chicken.

The three other crows fly back,
Ready to play again.