At 4AM the birds outsound everything. Their songs are desperate, me, me, me, me. You, you, you, you. As the sky lightens, a V of geese sweeps over, heading north. His eyes try to make sense of them. Everything is new. The greenness blurs the edges of space. Boundaries are lost and found again. There is a black pocket in the forest where he must not go. A man there pushes through the undergrowth in search of grapevine.
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myfanwy collins 
Simply gorgeous. A perfect micro. 🙂
Thank you so much, Ellen!