winter strawberry garden

we planted the hearts of squirrels
beneath the skeleton
of our grandfather & waited for red
to bleat through the snow.
in the barn the barn owls
are hacking security systems 
across the world. i am looking for
an outlet where i can charge
my sweet tooth. there is a plot
to kill the sun but it is thousand of years
in the making. i know i am not
going to be the one to stop them.
so, i sit back & watch everyday 
as the strawberry grow up through
the skeleton. swell & cry out.
i devour them as they do & 
if any travelers go by i make a show
of looking for a ripe one
only to shrug. we have to get creative
with our hoarding. i find owl pellets
& pry them apart like easter eggs.
in one i found a doll house fork & in
another i find a sim card. 
the owls know more than me i suppose.
when spring comes these strawberries
will go to sleep & i will have to 
find another animal to burry.
for now though the sky 
buzzes grey & ever the crows complain
about how hard it is to find
something sugary to make the day
less sharp around the edges.