faces cut from ancient stone,
frozen, on cold walls,
bitter scores never settled
Buttercups reaching for the sun. Soaking up every ray that pours down on them.
There is a metal bench, with a bit of rust, nearby.
I take a seat and join in, a new buttercup!
My eyes are closed, my face turned skyward.
I sit beneath the warmth, until the light fades, and the sun sinks into the Ramapo hills.
The fall season has just about peaked in New York. The wind is getting heavy, and the ground is filling with leaves. This year, I am happy to say, we did get some great sunshine, and great colors to enjoy. I know I am biased, but there is nothing quite like a beautiful New York fall!