Gettysburg

Gettysburg battlefield

A foggy, cold, November morning. Lincoln spoke,

following a 2-hour oratory with two minutes

because he knew “we can not dedicate —

we cannot consecrate — we cannot hallow” ground

covered, uncovered by grass and snow. Remembered.

 

Snowdust

Snow dusting an Appalachian forest, by Don Sniegowski on Flickr

Fine flakes so intricately small they disappear

against bright gray sky, roads and sidewalks.

In this forest, every surface takes some,

except for the creek, which accepts it

as brethren. I extend my bare hands.

 

Termination Dust

Denali

Photo of Denali by Tim Rains, National Park Service.

 

And suddenly, summer green becomes autumn orange.

Termination dust, that Alaskan high altitude snow

signals summer’s end. But not here. Now.

No mountaintops. Just lawns and fallen leaves.

No blueberries for bear’s dessert before hibernation.