It’s up to the oaks and the sky now.
The yellows and crimsons have fallen
to the ground. The sky practiced
its charcoal and smoke most of the day,
but for one magic moment when it let
the sun peak through to paint
another batch of incoming clouds
and illuminate the northern hills.
Watch for these moments, precious
and few. Let them kindle within you
the fire that burns with color and light
regardless of the cold.