Cold autumn day, smells of firewood in the air,
Little diamond snowflakes sparkle down to the earth.
As they land they wink out of existence as if they never were.
Crystal spires on a micro scale lost to the heat of the moment.
I watch the tops of my tennis shoes as I walk towards the field.
They drift in and out of my vision
with their scuffed toes and red dusted fabric.
Side walk cracks are too far apart for a decent rhythm but
the sky is a painting.
People don't look up enough to see.
Grey steel and blue forges work on the masterpieces
meant to fade into your fingertips
in an ocean up above.