Nature’s biological clock strikes 
the final hours and the eventual end 
to the advantages daytime holds over night. 
There is little time left to prepare 
as the noisy and chanting starlings  
have already started arriving  
from the dark side of once plentiful September color. 
They take up residence in the thick shade  
of the protective magnolias and pines;  
still complaining about the heat of Indian summer. 
Their diatribes, denunciations  
and reviling scolds resound over those 
of the loud and anxious migrating geese 
who cackle with concern as they escape  
the onslaught of the season's first frost..... 
And as the last Robins leave the meadows 
all is quieted and the night crawlers go back to sleep..... 
  
2008 © TS
Ted Sheridan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dirt-nap/