all alone, perfectly centered over the creek; turn left at the front door and there it hangs, the first october pear i've seen here in 17 years, the blossoms from this tree all gone by early summer, the other pears eaten by squirrels. this one, however, is out of reach, out of time, an autumn pear, a new piece of magic when i think i've seen all the neighborhood has to offer. it puts me in mind of christmas wood, of trees golden and covered with oranges and pears and the scents of fir and green tea - it is my christmas wood and that is how i decorate it, a dusting of snow and it is always dark twilight, always christmas eve, the sunset holding the world in its embrace, and there is a cabin that is mine, and i am on the path to there, to candlelight in the windows and a cat sleeping in front of the fire and the feel of angels overhead. it is always quiet and the snow is always dancing down.
i am dreamy lately. you must forgive me.