When You Wish You’d Brought Your Camera
By Ed Crane
Sunday morning is all quiet for dog and I.
The river still, a green brown surface clean
of wind ripples and pocks of falling rain.
High blue clouds edged with red and gold
play above a sun about to rise over the
horizon. Her muzzle searches freshly tilled soil
of the field spread out before us, the sun,
out of sight of we ground dwelling creatures.
Tops of distant trees cloaked in autumn leaf
burst into red and gold flame glowing like giant
beacons. Birds crossing the path of high sun rays
glow crimson in its fiery red light. Gradually
the fire burns down the body of the trees until
half covered in golden flames from highlighted
fall colors – more at home in Oregon or Maine.
Clouds dancing in blue and red make their move.
Muted beauty returns and I wish I’d had a camera.