A House of Limestone
A russet landscape surrenders to rain,
while walking slowly
it feels quite chilly;
the sudden surprise of a whistling train
seems delightful to hear
and offers some cheer...
our journey ends at the doorsteps of our home,
where we sit watching the gleaming stars above.
A house of limestone.
October is colder than the stones we gaze upon,
such as the Deep North,
but inside there's warmth;
all we hear is black ravens swooping down,
no red-headed woodpeckers
peck holes in pine trees...
they're safe from people chanting in monotone,
and the winter storm unleashing a cyclone.
A house of limestone.
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2018
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