And decorated the little church down the road with shadow shafts and filigree . . .
It illuminated the hoarfrost on a distant mountain . . .
And silvered a simple power line . . .
It lingered in the bare tree tops . . .
Before skulking along the ridge to the south.
Little leaves cupped to catch the last precious light . . .
Blades of grass glowed spring-green . . .
And Otis positioned himself to catch the last rays.