Image taken by Tommy Stone

every season
has the right of it
the colors lead us
harbingers of inward turning
preparation for walls and roof
a fire and a cup of tea
we light the lights
and start the process
of huddling in
but linger for a few last looks
glimpses to carry us through
the dark and drear
until the earth can open up
and feed us again
the grasses wave
reminding us what waits
underneath future snow
as we gather
and tend the hearth
it’s sun-like glow
the smell of bread
the cycle carries memory
we will see dreams in flames
and sleep in flannel
old bones know the chill
that comes after a fall
that follows a walk
through fields of grass