russet, burnt umber, raw sienna, bittersweet, fawn and plain brown mark the shift.
leaden grays and soft whites create the contours between mountains and snow squalls.
drifts of the last fallen oak leaves settle into the tired lawn.
woodsmoke curls from the chimney into the bare birches.
pin points of barn lights fend off an early nightfall.
these gentle comforts are here.
breathing in and breathing out.
being present.
noticing.
creating peace in the moment.
if just for now.
Im with you
ReplyDeletein thought....
Pure poetry.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for sharing, Karen!
Blessings,
Jeanneke.
Thanks for your poem....
ReplyDeleteBeautiful!
ReplyDelete