After Thoreau
Through the window
The house cat
Watches snow fall on April Daffodils
The tops of trees
Sway to the rhythm of the wind
Fresh snow before dawn
Mutes the land
The wind collects garbage cans
Against parked cars
Like driftwood
The rising sun
Delicately brushing pink and orange
Across a clouded sky
Black ducks stand on the frosted bank
Of a glass surfaced pond
Flapping their wings
In a rising mist
On a hillside at dusk
Five rabbits
Gnaw the base of saplings
The bobcat slinks through
A field of fresh snow
Under a full moon
I collect the nuances of life
So that I may live deliberately
And not
When I come to die
Find I have not lived at all
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