i tarry, forsooth

silver icing. frost on browning autumnal field.

i dare not trod upon the pristine dew,
it would sully her name - i explain.

surely the feel of bare grass under foot
is worth the initial pain?

The long drive to work

My orange -yellow tree, on the bend in the road,
is completely bereft today.

cold Autumn has him defenseless.

but he will stand through winter, proud.
and waiting.