plump candy canes run aerial reconnaissance inside my sunroom.
the plan has been in effect since their unceremonious arrival.
every cranny; lodged, tugged, discussed, and then,
patient outpost.
through glass, the objective is plain.
codes are passed in dash-like tongue
until uncommon silence and they look on.
congregating at its base, the pair measure
and nip the fish tank. these civilians
will require relocation.
don't let them fool you, through the fluff,
the pagentry, they've made their home;
they defend. still, syllables
are muttered, words
overheard; "these colors don't run!"
while heaven is in such plain view
and so very near.
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