Sun trickles through the frayed strings of a dream catcher in front a window
Feathers hang and shutter, beckoning my view
And the trees now shake
Swaying wider with bare arms
Bending further
And further still
Autumn passes quickly
I chase the sun near the end of the day
Running from the shifting shadows
Taking what I can
To follow the forest’s lead
In preparation of the upcoming cold
I chase the sun near the end of the day
Not yet ready to behold
the fettered might of winter’s harshness ready to unfold.
We won't feel all of winter, though. Unless Hawaii has a fluke snow storm...
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