The warmth of Indian Summer pivots.
Now the grizzly wheather is here.
Mountain highlands ware a shawl of placid white.
Days of blue skys and radiant starry nights,
Slow the sojourn tempered tempo to largo.
Bigfoot tracks her way to Winter's hideaway.
Home awaits in fur shared shieling.
1 comment:
lovely poem.
But a little lonely
pank
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