Brass, brazen maple leaf, embossed with a very serious face. Buds around you change in every season; green in spring, leaf in summer, then celebrate their passing in bright reds, yellow, and orange. Crackling under my feet, whispering to me; seasons pass and I am looking forward to wintry solitude.
You, my friend, stand against my fence. Never blowing away. Brass and brazen, always in the same place.
A gift from a flea market, many years ago. A gift from my children, placing our imagination, with their love, in an honored presentation, on Father’s Day; of my favorite leaf, one from a maple tree, brass, brazen as could be; never blowing away, always in the same place, as their love continues for me.
Splintered kindling wood
Moss growing moist on north side
Summer serves them well
Written In Center Sandwich NH at Kathleen’s place.