Bare tree branches revealed to be
Reaching skyward and praying.
Praying silently into the frigid wind.
An asphalt parking lot,
Covered by ranked rows of metallic rectangles,
Absorbing solar warmth while,
Casting pools of black shadow.
Whirling dead leaves,
funnel into a circle and slowly whirl between,
the ranked rows of silent witnesses.
Dancing a winter waltz with a frigid partner.
Transparent panes of glass are the thinnest barrier,
warding off the battering, buffets of winter's frigid battle
Allowing me to observe and record in a warm haven
Behind the technological magic of melted glass
January 24, 2015