a cold grey stone morning
chilled air and marble icing
spread evenly over the horizon
sliced & cut into laced cloud bands
as they criss-cross the cliffs below

winds now shift south
hitting the water with precision points
like great ship convoys
battle lines form for some great war
heading toward distant shores

delicate soft winter breezes
my sky winds came by today
lingering for a morning stay
of oven fresh rasberry scones
and hot orange-spiced tea

there upon these Ozark hills
once claimed bounty of land
plowed on the rocky ridges
homestead and fences – a mule & a plow
Oh, these unsung farmlands gone

warm air & hints of pine scents
delicate tree breezes
you can hear the fall leaves still
clinging to their old oak homes
not yet free to roam