opening 18 birdhouses and examining nests, cleaning them out for spring
wren, violet green or tree swallow, blue bird? you can tell from the material,
or abandoned left-over eggs
tastes of rich, full-bodied coffee,
satsumas, eggnog and pomegranates
staining fingers scarlet
oh! and those two pies i made from scratch:
one with a large squash from the garden, the other with apples from the orchard
you are inhaling hard, bracing breaths, now
you've been out hiking and walking through the cold
and the fiery sky's setting sun stuns you,
the mist shrouding ponderosa pines and douglas firs of your favorite green-gold
you are lucky, though here in a not uncommon sort of way, to spot a great-horned owl
we are witnesses of the first enduring snow-fall
for so long forgotten in the extravagance of summer,
we turn again to receive Sister Winter
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