Nature (continued)

Fireweed Season, WestCrest

Fireweed now rusted,
We ramble past the colored foliage.
Ami and Pepper rush ahead,
kicking dust, sniffing all.

On top branch of a Sumac,
a solitary Ana stands guard.
No sense of passing season.
Others have fled to light,
warmth and greater forage.

My dogs and I remain.