Sunset eagle circles the mountain tip.
First winter breeze stings my lip.
Cold stars rise from the western pink glow.
This is the start of the winter, mountain topper’s know.
The afternoon birds, eat the last of the day’s food.
The Macdonald sets a flowing contentive mood.
The granite boulders huddle in the last of the suns rays.
The changing of the season guard, is evident today.
The moons stainless edge, cuts into the darkness.
Reflecting off the river and into the emptiness.
slight cool shiver hits the top of my spine.
Warm house fire thoughts, seemingly divine.
© Deon Heemskerk 17-5-2012