fallen golden leaves sparkle as if with diamonds
as frost melts under a November sun.
The heavens are a rich azure
and the gods have painted streaks of white,
my breath drifting like the mist
rolling on the empty golf course,
pond not yet cold enough to freeze.
Magpies glide and a crow squawks
as surprised motorists scrape ice away
but I'm pleased for the welcome respite
from dreary wind and rain
content to stroll in the autumnal air
and for a short while with barely a care.