Howling wind,
Roaring through the woods,
Like a locomotive.
Rain pattering to pounding on the roof,
Tees bending and swaying,
Purple finches hiding on the front porch.
As a twilight made of fuzzy gray
Fades into night,
Waiting for thunder.
chestercountyramblings
meandering through, writing about whatever strikes my fancy
Purple dawn
Laying a mist
Watching for birds
To herald the day
Tufts of grass
Promising Spring
Blink of an eye
Winter again