not what it could be
the leaves tremble in
invisible winds
blowing yellow across
blue skies
winter rising
remembering the coming of
magic silences
the winds howl around the eaves
the promise of the cold
snow drift cleansing
the shudder that's drawing us in
to warm fires by the hearthstones
and restful afternoons
wrapped in blankets
safely now we'll assure our pathway
believing in more than disbelief could
ever ruin or distract
the crow tells the story
of baskets full of joy
ready to spill down on tables laden
with sweet satisfaction
voices no longer rising in protest
but singing the true song
of freedom's blessed gift.
and firewood laid by
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About the Creator
susan marie loehe
everything is Art, Art is Everything.
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