10/02/2025
Death climbs the trees and the colors reach for their pinnacles
The warm balm of summers fragrance is revealed in the easy frost
A dry summer crunches under naked foot and makes itself available
The North country’s fireworks have begun their perennial and eternal play of light
Earlier shadows now invite me to retreat into my own
To take off the mask my soul wears for a season
The sun rises within today
Even my heart cannot blink
Grace is calling me home
