Woodstock ~ Vermont, by Chandler Anderson
String of Jewels
by Preeth Ganapathy
Last night’s celebrations have ended.
The kids are home, happy with their treats.
The houses are deep in the lap of sleep.
Pumpkins festoon the compound walls
like little globes of calm.
Mist curtains the air like a giant puff of smoke.
Ladybugs and beetles crawl out of their homes
in search of the sun.
The trees stand still, perfectly coiffed,
the dew on their leaves are little drops of pearl.
Here, jade and emerald green nestle
between citrine yellow and carnelian orange,
ruby red and cinnabar vermilion.
The boulevard glows in the morning,
like a string of jewels.