Frosting on the concrete ~

This year…

March marches on slowly.

Also moving

for the winter ~

dirty pigeons.

Winter morn ~

waiting for southtown bus,

pidgeons.

On to work ~

racing down the street,

tiny squirrel.

’Tween autumn & winter ~

slips ’way while I read,

morning crescent moon.

Moving on,

colored leaves & me ~

autumn peak.

Before portraits o’ Satan

I spit out

the abrupt taste o’ ancient candy.

In blackness,

scattered rainbow candies ~

autumn leaves.