“Never use the word suddenly just to
            create tension.”
                        —
Writing Fiction

What rules did Mother Nature obey?
Too many greens, you say?
And then the blues,
hard to tell sky from sea,

up from down, towering gray stone,
trees stripped bare or leafed
to such excess they block  all else
from view.

 How about that Eastern Shore…
so flat the boring fields go on for miles,
acres of them, and there in the middle
of brown stubble, a russet deer,

 earth tones unbroken but for sky.
A blue suit with brown shoes, what color
tie would you wear? What rules
did Mother Nature obey?

I want to use the word suddenly;
you tell me it’s cliché,  but in my poem
the harvest is in, and suddenly
it’s winter.

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