TIME WAS SLIPPING AWAY
It was daylights savings time, and I was up at 6. Jumped into my clothes, and grabbed a cup of coffee. I walked outside. The light was still dim. Water in the birdbath was frozen. Out in the meadow, across the way, goldenrod, and Queen Anne’s Lace, were all covered with frost. I lost myself, in the simple beauty of the colors, textures, hues, and nuances, of shriveling up, dried plants, refusing to die. I saw the complexity of the scene, and realized that time was slipping away.
On Tiffany Creek 