In our robes, with steaming cups of hot chocolate,
waiting for the sky to clear, watching and talking softly.
When we do see the first rays of light appear,
we rush to the closet for jeans, sweatshirts, boots
then jackets. Should we pick apples, or go to
the pumpkin fields? I love you
in that floppy hat!
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, Ancient Skies