Trudging through my mountain home
Through the misting rain and gloam,
I spied a corner of my wood
Which shone, as only corners should,
Azealias blazing frothy red
And mossy boughs above my head,
A glade of green in light and shade
Attuned... as only dreams are made.
Exultant, in my happy way,
I laughed aloud... and blessed the day.
[email protected]Mid Winter 2024