Day Eighty

Today's words:

Clay

Frost

Perfume

Honey

Fall

Toes

The sky was the color of clay.

There was a frost

Predicted, and the perfume

In the air smelled like honey.

No doubt about it, Fall

Was coming. I could feel it in my toes.

My toes

Were chilled, and the clay-

Colored sky almost looked as if it might fall.

"Let's get in before the frost,"

I suggested, "And have some tea with honey.

"The perfume

Alone will be relaxing." As I inhaled that honeyed perfume

I felt warmth spreading down to my toes.

"Did you check on the chickens, honey?"

I asked. "We want to be sure there's enough clay

"In their yard to offset the frost.

"I'm not losing any this Fall."

Because Fall,

Even if it does have a nice perfume

Can be deadly. A sudden frost

Can kill off chickens and leave your toes

Digging into the clay.

Never mind the smell of honey

In the air. "Are you all right, honey?"

I called, just as I saw you start to fall,

Hands grasping at the clay-

Laden ground. The smell of perfume

Suddenly dissipated and my toes

Curled, like in response to a killing frost.

And just as the frost

Crystallizes the rest of the honey,

So I felt my toes

Throb as I watched you fall,

Through the perfume

And onto the clay.

Frost on the ground can cause a fall,

Just as honey can be the top note in a perfume,

But in the end we all have toes and feet of clay.