There's pine clinging to the breeze ,
The scrabble and babble of "easties"-
in the trees ..
A chorus of windbound ravens ..
All Hail ! The security of my warm winter haven ...
A frozen bell
A cockleshell
Two milk cans
Wind racked pie pans
A Farmers Almanac ,
a glass-top table half full-
of nick-knacks , this and-
thats , whatever and 'what on
earth's , the accoutrements of the blessed aged-
and the soon to be interred .. A once mighty sunflower scratches-
the porch screen ...
Thus , my steadfast , collective account of rural daydreams ..