|Midnight Snack, Curtis Wilson Cost, 1984|
As autumn ebbs toward final bow
and darkness settles early now--
we seek snug fire to fend the chill,
its soft glow shines upon the sill.
The plantings are all reaped and stored
except few pumpkins and stray gourd.
We spend our evenings sharing tales,
while cold breeze hints of winter’s gales;
and fend ourselves from chill and gloam
in light and warmth that we call home.
Well-sheltered behind frost-etched glass
we watch the seasons as they pass
and dream of Spring should Fates allow...
as autumn ebbs toward final bow.
© Ginny Brannan October 2012
Image provided by Tess Kincaid/The Mag. The Mag #139
Sharing at d'Verse Poets Pub Open Link Night Week #66.