Saturday, November 24, 2012

115. Strange leaves

Chapped lips and
home-made mitts;
youthful couples in the
crisper air:

Simple pleasures,
sights that cause a smile to
form –

Children gather treats
advancing winds;
cars lay rampant in
hazy, oil-soaked coffee

To see as sights,
to smell as smells:
never to feel
the warm embrace of
commonality –

winter dawns, and
shows its weary
head too
to ignore.

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One Art, to recognize, must be,
Another Art to Praise.

- Emily Dickinson