I went for a walk this morning, the first in a very long time. The air was cool, the sky overcast. A neighbor’s bush had a halo of fire. Farther along, a tree with leaves of yellow had a vine, growing high in the canopy, dripping leaves of dull scarlet. Upon closer inspection, its trunk was scored with shoots climbing and encircling the bark-covered column.
Continuing my walk, I came across a house for sale. White with a gray skirt. And a door the color of butternut squash. Or of a rose leaf in autumn.