Who knew the real gold
in these mountains was sunshine
and summer tourists?

Umbrellas, useful
whether it rains or sun shines,
our all-weather friends.

Heart carved into bark.
I hope the love lasts as long
as the tree counts rings.

On the cusp of night
last rays warm an empty boat
as the stars move in.

Look up into fall’s
last show, baring branches hung
with splashes of gold.