When December Snaps 

Vapor ghosts whisper off the long blue
to a yellow yet to grasp
fractal lanterns before the expanse.

Beside those maps of heaven, an eagle
chortles: a salute to Autumn songbird’s
wakening. All at once, a golden beam
cracks my dust-smeared window.
This shining catches a frosted remnant:
hanging by a string, a leaf
floats to packed earth, to ease,
as the eastern door creaks open.

My haunters breathe.

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