Deceptive sun beams
Promise some warmth as I leave.
(But I bundle up).
A tangle of branches
Spreads across the sunlit road
In two dimensions.
The fence is moiré;
Swirling patterns from the sun
Splashed on the snow bank.
Two wooden fence posts
Frame the stream that flows beyond,
Tinkling faintly.
Dark parallel lines
Are everywhere the sun shines
(On parallel trees).
Even on Sundays
The sign sees fit to announce:
"School Bus Turn Ahead."
Upon the brown leaves
The brown rotting dead logs lie--
Perfect camouflage.
Abandoned cottage
With its hodgepodge of past lives
Crystallized in junk.
Mute hieroglyphics
Squiggling along the road
Tell of mystery.
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