Inverleith Avenue

Inverleith Avenue

watery, winter sun,

liquid gold.

suddenly shoots a

fuzzy spotlight on me.

Dazzled,

estatic.

Slow burn,

inner warmth.

Cold electric blue sky,

serried ranks of trees

standing to attention,

stripped bare in their

winter skeletons.

Gnarled,

hoary,

but beautiful.

Stripped of the frivolous

garnishing of summer,

growing old gracefully,

stripped to the bare essentials,

wise protectors of the land,

guarding...waiting...

until eternity.

AvenueTreeswaitingwinterwise protectors

◄ It is a Gift...

Kevin ►

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