On the Edge

Maple leaves pirouette to the frost brushed ground in the rising sun.

            Birds rustling through the branches accelerate their golden demise.

Chickadees and Juncos dance on the bird feeders,

            stocking up for the lean time ahead.

They look fat.

Steam on the lake – a cold volcano wisping skyward — ethereal, spirit laced.

            The boat rests in the lagoon.

Give me one last time.

            One last ride.

                        One last Walleye.

One last trip down river to the dam before the sleet stings racing across the lake, ice encasing all!

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