Swift as a Mushroom

Sunlight on dead leaves;
Bright yellow merges with brown;
Green still holds her own.

 

My barrier bush
Will disappear in winter
Revealing the road.

 

Pine cone on the line,
Its brown mixing with the white;
Road side palette.

 

Dead broken tree trunk
Is held up by its neighbor--
Forest communion.

Standing and growing
Family of deadly mushrooms
Near the empty house.

 

Warm winter's coming,
Fuzzy bear's have told me so.
(They've been wrong before.)

Portal through the trees
Opens on a sunken vale--
Look! But do not tread!

Swift as a mushroom,
Springing up in the shadows--
A house in the woods.