Blind To Beauty

Yesterday was eight years since I posted my first poem here. I’ve missed several of these anniversaries, blinded by hurry, distracted by life. This year I remembered. No great epiphany, no poem resonating inside me. But at least I noticed. At least I was awake enough to my life to notice. And that, always, is the whole point of these poems. To mark a moment, to notice the life I’m living. Even when that life feels like a long, noisy, gray subway ride instead of a walk through the glorious autumn hills.

leaf peak arrived and left
on cloudy days, with fog
and more rain. Red, gold,
green fell and withered
while we–
chipmunk, squirrel, human
Scurried and gathered
easily distracted
and blind to beauty