Returning from the western desert oasis,
I have found the autumn fading
Gone into the palest blue sky of grey vapors.
I smell far off snow on this blustering wind
Spraying the later leaves from the hardwood branches.
Twelve trees are a protective crown around my cabin;
She’s enchanted to see me back again.
Fill the heart with hot soaking embers
And sign at the projects left undone.
Spent the daylight battling the chill air
With damp wood, flannel, and moccasins,
Curled up with a thoughtful book on the couch,
And occasionally wondering
What’s going on out there with you.
Crown of Twelve Trees
Posted: November 17, 2002 in PoetryTags: Blue, Book, Cabin, Desert, Grey, Hearth, Light, Snow, Trees, Wind
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