Waiting on the Edge of a Season

I am smitten

By the hovering season

When dozy drones still buzz

Their mantra

And leached leaves

Spiral

Into swirls

Of their own skeletons

 

Sultry days are gone

Frost waits in the wings

To paint pale pictures

String diamonds

On branch and web

Each morning

A scintillating

Surprise

 

Romance hides

In mist and fog

A quirky ghost

That steals

My frozen breath away

I wait for those days

On the edge

Of a season

 

© Kim M. Russell, 2016

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