So let's get the show on the road:
I remember your hands
building the rain that is wrapped in morning
soft as grey feathers
not yet reshaped with the chill
that changes its nature,
not yet hard white knives
that open the veins
of fall's leavings
to rime and shrivel,
but alive, wild and strong
as the pushing seed
that cracks the stone.
Postscript: The title says 'Friday" but of course the 55 always stays up through the weekend to accommodate anyone dropping by.
Images: Fairy Circle, 1895, by Carlton Alfred Grant, Public domain (Manipulated)
Silver Maple Seedling in Chimney Bricks, ©joyannjones 2013