Early Frost

O fragile body, your summer fades and is over --
bear now the frigid, the merciless, the denied;
shake down the fruited tree, forget the clover.
By this first frost you know you have not died.


from First Frost, by Lola Pergament


Scraping a hard frost off the car windows was an extra chore before heading off to work this morning. The mornings have been dark, with no moon. The stars were shining so clear and sharp it was worth drawing in a few cold breaths and just taking it all in. Orion was standing over the marsh in front of me, and the big dipper was laying upside-down along the tops of the trees behind the house. I was tired, but certainly alive.