"When dawn spreads its paintbrush on the plain, spilling purple... ," Songs of the Pioneers song from TV show "Wagon Train." Dawn on the mythic Santa Fe Trail, New Mexico, looking toward Raton from Cimarron. -- Clarkphoto. A curmudgeon's old-fashioned newspaper column, cross-breeding metaphors and journalism and art, for readers in 150 countries.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Cold front

You can tell it's coming.
The skies grow gray, the sun hazy.
Yesterday's strong south wind is forgotten.
The autumn leaves hurry to the ground in the light breezes.
The air grows calm.
In the northwest, the sky gets bluer and darker.
Ragged clouds fill the skies of the serene Great Plains.
It eases in, spitting moisture as a vanguard.
When darkness falls, you can hear its arrival.
Outside, gusts of wind whip every limb of every tree and bush.
It's time for stew and hot tea and perhaps a fire.
You go to sleep underneath a blanket
And the wind tells you it's November.
In the morning, it's clear and bright...
and crisp... cold front.

1 comment:

  1. That's Oklahoma in the Fall, you got it perfectly.

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