The Last Roses of Summer

They hung on
After the frost.
After the rain.
After the cold.

They hung on
For me,
I think,
To find their heart.

To warm my own.

And yours.

Crraacckkk!
Another log met the log splitter!
To become a warm fire,
Heating our house, protecting us from the cold.

To see a heart here was the last thing I expected.
I enlarged the picture to see the details ...
and found another teensy tiny heart, just to the left of the one I first saw.

Today I am blessed.
Today I am warm.
In more ways than one.