Shenandoah Valley
Patches of snow remain in blue shade.
Miles of deciduous vines twist black and angular.
A sudden influx of cream colored sheep
nibble green tuffs, small teeth tug sleeping roots.
Winter white sky and partial sun,
monochrome print one would find
in a metropolitan home: tuxedo and pearl.
Except the sheep. that fluffed shade
of Chanel style wool jackets,
ones you might find at the Thrift and Gift Boutique.
Nights begin early. Our fire cracks amber buttons,
poems read more slowly.
Fog settles between the houses;
sheep and vines bed down to warm earth.
