Winter stole in earlier than expectation,
quietly slinking between the last days
of the golden fall, an illness tracing
its fingertips gently, exploring
surfaces and possibilities, until
the one place was found to penetrate
and chase away what little warmth
was left. Damp cold probed, seeking
its vulnerability. Despite the stark and
terrible beauty, I could still look
at the sun and remember.
Photograph by George Hodan via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.