clouds of winter (and oatmeal raisin cookies)
black rollers, waves tumbling in;
poised to unleash
onto the low-lying hills.
two dozen birds, inky silhouettes
burst from a tree and wheel straight up,
then bank sharply to the south. * * * * * * * * * * a blue curtain hanging down,
grazing the tops of foothills
rich gold from a new sun
that has found entry between layers of grey.
as the sun rises higher
grey morphs into silver,
crystallizing from the outside in
as frost on a windowpane.
then: white. * * * *
