The Neighborhood Fire
The sun drops low behind the eaves
To strike the maple in the drive;
A furnace built of autumn leaves
That keeps the neighborhood alive.
The sun drops low behind the eaves
To strike the maple in the drive;
A furnace built of autumn leaves
That keeps the neighborhood alive.
The morning breaks across the stone,
Where patient paws and quiet eyes
Wait for a hand to call their own
Beneath the bright October skies.