crow perched on a fir
both rinse their black leaves ~
cold showers
crow perched on a fir
both rinse their black leaves ~
cold showers
frosty morn ~
’neath the orange leaves
a sign says <STOP>

cold morn ~
the ghosts o’ dead trees
on the highway

late autumn ~
in comes an evening guest
ol’ leaf

early snow ~
the young cat takes
its 1st step

dark late fall ~
on the ground thick snow
turns to rain
november ~
ran into an ol’ friend
216th st. sunset

downtown autumn ~
walking streets paved with
golden leaves

autumn rain ~
in seattle is born
a new lake

spelunking
the iron caves o’
construction
