Rust tinted mountains
hunch beneath a blanket
of gray clouds.
Cool, crisp,
first-of-November air stirs
the diamond-dewed spider web
bridging Sumac and Bittersweet.
There, beneath the apple tree
at cornfield's edge,
deer feed on windfall McIntosh.
Migrating Snow Geese
stitch lines across the sky;
repeating vees that point the way home.
There is nothing more than this.
It is plenty.
