100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups – Week#66

In the deafening silence the gardener retires;

he lets the garden be.

Sycamore leaves flutter down to a stylish layer that hides the previous rotting debris.

Vacant snail shells dampened by the late afternoon mist

glisten like glass marbles;

in the mud flattened by the marauding, fat fluorescent chested pigeons.

who squabble for breadcrumbs fallen below the bird table.

Yellow beaked blackbird scurries under the cotoneaster;

pecks greedily at the scarlet dots of juice.

Lazy ginger Tom while watching the eager infiltrators,

in the last of the sun;

stretches, yaws and sidles in the back door  as it closes shut.