Sunrise coffee.
A chilly 45 degrees.
Friends, old and new.
Canadian geese, unseen in the fog,
Heading south and sounding off in formation.
A ruby-throated hummingbird buzzes by me,
Grateful I've kept feeders out for her.
Tap tap tap, and the call of a woodpecker,
I watch as it hops up and down the old,
Dead tree by the edge of the not Dry Creek.
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