Humphrey’s Peak right up there
With clouds tailing off
Dusted with snow like a cinnamon bun.

Flagstaff silent but for the crows,
Some traffic rolling along cracked and tar strapped asphalt
Breeze pushing yellow, green, yellow-green leaves along a sidewalk
Bluebirds bright, their song with joy
Happiness like a child’s reflection in an iced over pond.
Everything—
the very air
—crisp, crackling with energy.

Winter draws nearer.

The smell of old leaves,
Of dead leaves,
New soil,
Life.

Blue of autumn sky.