DM Babbit Poet Narrative

Winter's Arrival

Mild weather greeted the week late November
    as mid sixty temps held steady.
The sun so bright and warm
   draped  cloudless skies of deep dark blue.
Leaves floated wistfully, gliding gentle and soft
   waltz dancing on the air.
Strewn across the grass a palette of bladed color leaves
   I raked them tenaciously into piles.
Resting momentarily more fell from the naked trees
   while they still exuded shade.
The cool crispness settled in
   as I gathered broken branches for the fire.
Stacked them methodically to sear the fire pit
   and I set the fires ablaze.
It smoldered smoky gray ashen at first
   from the mix of dry brown leaves and small twigs.
Then burning hot and warm with rising flames
   it warmed the stones and ignited the heat.
The momentary break beckoned me
             to linger hovering to stay warm.
I watched the flames burn orange and red
   licking the wood and lapping its moisture.
As evening set and the fire died,
   wind found its way
Oncoming clouds and gusts darkened the sky
   dropping temperatures ten, twenty, thirty degrees.
Rapidly a north west storm blew in
   dressed in thunder and lightning streaks
A  mix of rain and snow settled in
    slipping in loud, fast and cold
announcing winter’s sudden arrival.

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