frosty morn ~

doesn’t want to wake

snoring truck

a brisk evening

o’ warm colors &

e’en the wind whistles

winter rain ~

my throat aches with sweet

sharp mint tea

early dusk ~

shades itself ’hind firs

full moon

crow perched on a fir

both rinse their black leaves ~

cold showers

frosty morn ~

’neath the orange leaves

a sign says <STOP>

cold morn ~

the ghosts o’ dead trees

on the highway

late autumn ~

in comes an evening guest

ol’ leaf

early snow ~

the young cat takes

its 1st step

dark late fall ~

on the ground thick snow

turns to rain