The morn starts
Chilly like dipping
My hand into
A bag of
Ice scurrying in
With the days
Paper like my
Pup seeking warmth
I grasp my
Cup of coffee
Watching the steam
Rise like sirens
Calling seafarer towards
Rocks I slowly
Sip like children
In Wisconsin lake
Cabins gazing at
Autumn’s exploding color
Enjoying this early
Brisk Charlotte day
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 