daylong feast

You ever smelled air so thickwith pancakes, you dreamt of maple syrup rain?The morning buzz of a warm wintersettles into my cup asleaves crunch atop hot buttered streets —the day paved for champions.Translucent pink cloudssizzle over the setting sun,plated on a pastel sky.A sweet surprise afterthe daylong feast:a gibbous, soon full.

look up

Gray clouds hover, sopping with nudges to bask in the sunlightin spite of the cold or in preparation for it.Lighter blues descendinto the horizon carrying white whisps as blankets for the early-setting sun.The moon waxes, its orbital gainsgrace uswith a daytime glow.Winter whispers its arrival.