First Frost
The frost cracks and crazes underfoot
Despite my careful steps, tiny finger snaps
Of sound, shards shattering over brittle
Breaking leaves and the singed dying grass.
It seems only yesterday the little flames
Of dandelions flared even in the shade
Beneath the pines and by the holly hedge,
Leaning on the little ledges of the stone walk.
And now the wind bends their ashy heads,
Little puffs of smoke lifting and settling
Into their long sleep in the cold ground,
Dreaming of inheriting the earth again.
Poetry by countryfog
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Written on 2012-10-16 at 16:02
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