Summer sacrifices offered,
taken by the sun,
until the sun itself is taken.
A quiet alter, an altar quiet,
the slowed heartbeat of winter
only up the road.
Autumn falls early for winter
in the mountains.
A shared boundary,
the overlap of time,
a moment reflected on cold glass.
The frozen moment,
delible in time,
holds for now, but
permanence will never be its strength.
Meanwhile, the cocoon beckons.
Hibernation or an awakening-
what will it be?
Snow already? My, my. Loved these word-studded glimpses.
ReplyDeleteThanks to you and your last post for getting me out yesterday!
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