macabre pumpkins melt
rotten orange goo
between deck cracks
snow skiffs swirl
blowing a pinless poppy
into the ditch
newly unboxed lights
LED brightness beams
sparkle over new snow
When you've got so much to say it's called gratitude
And that's right...
little sheepish bleats
as he comes through the hedge
the don’t see me
and munch a few more
fallen crab apples
I crack another cold can
of German pilsner
they leap up
and white tail away
bounding over lawn chairs
and fallen trees
into the forest deep