Frosty fingers (with Swept)

original watercolor

Sweeping leaves once lush
with summer splendor
over the billowing crush
of masses ’bout their chores.
The insatiable wind claims all… with frosty finger.

Those below notice not
by air steps are steered.
Onward they do trot
fuzzy on the distance cleared.
A driving wind holds the wheel… with frosty fingers.

One among the crowd
lifts a face rosy
above the heads bowed
by wind’s will weighty.
And welcomes the challenge slapped across his cheek… with frosty fingers.



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