tell me of the season’s changes . . .
frosty mornings with steaming mugs of cocoa.
fiery piles of leaves tromped through, buffeted about in all directions . . .
listening to the wind, I sketch in the shadows that cling to every detail like the lichen . . .
and when I run with that fox, flash of reddish fur,
to the place where the great owl sleeps,
tell me of the honkings of Canadian Geese overhead.
october 28, 2020 prayers to all those on fire watch, that you and yours be hedged about by His mighty hand