thru frostgrass
twigs & crisp leaves jogs
lone black crow

thru frostgrass
twigs & crisp leaves jogs
lone black crow

Long evening ~
taste-testing my salad,
Herr Samsa.

tatata
march the frosty streets
dry warm leaves
november ~
oak cloaks itself with
sunshine fog

dour autumn
but summerscarce grass
crowd with leaves

fall day
a speckled cement pole greets
so what

marriage o’
bright sun & gray rain
round the elm
@ the bus stop
spying ’hind bushes
fire hydrant

a caterpillar
reaches the summit
o’ a stump
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a memorial
i encounter
a shiny hydrant
