Being Framed Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Tree branches being framed in little windows way
up high, being blown apart gently in an afternoon
breeze.
Cuddling up to the outside of the building,
feeling protected by the brick structure so near
to them.
Sunlight penetrating it's leaves and glowing onto
the window like sparkling diamonds lying in the
snow.
Repertoire of beauty standing majestically,
royally, in an afternoon Arizona sun.

(2: 22 p.m. - 11/18/13)