Thousands of frost stars
Twinkle on every fallen leaf.
The sky is an aching blue.
Balsam intermingles with spruce.
Diamond dust paves the autumn path
With glinting winter magic:
Sparkles in each sunlit step.
In shade, the wildwood is quiet.
Cold frost rimes the fallen log.
Breath is visible, and runners steam.
One ray of weak sun is enough to
Blind, dazzling the senses.

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham