Palmer’s Poems

Walked with a setting December sun,
forty degrees fair and windless, one last
balmy day, before declared winter.
Roadside Oaks have back brushed sepia crowns,
their clingy foliage refused to fall, our easy
solar blue was measured between the wood.
Sun’s rays crawled in fallow bean stubble,
climbed up the far wood line, ink black
trunks supported more crowning sepias.
The grand finale sits on the West ridge, normally red,
this brassy barn displayed a fleeting South face, and
nearby a farm house window glowed as fine crystal.

Palmer R. Haynes
December, 2018