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The last of the apples hang from storm-lashed limbs the mints are little more than desiccated sticks while an Anna's Hummingbird drinks from yonder grevillea
A vine maple's glowing embers are beginning to subside musky scent of mushrooms pervades their forest lair birds flit and flutter in glistening hedgerow
Scarlet blueberry leaves remind us of the bounty in the freezer Yule lights on the tree mimic swirling flames in the stove upon the hearth
Violin, accordion and uilleann pipes speak to me whispers from departed elders circle of life in from field and forest to the warmth of hearth and home
Tom Leskiw
