Fog, like the sigh on a tired man’s pillow,
rests upon a snow covered field.
Golden grass, aging and dormant,
stands like broken glass
on the snowy walls of
deep roadside ditches.

Ten brown mourning doves
perch upon black power lines.
Juxtaposed against a gray sky, it seems
carefully composed, like a painting.
It is so unfathomably beautiful.
Awakening to wonder is like this.