I came upon this nostalgic poem that is great for the changing season and shorter days. This poem reminds me of my kid’s curious eyes and wide smile when they gaze upon nature’s marvels, like finding a hermit crab perched on a rock, discovering a strange-shaped leaf, or seeing squirrels dart across the yard. It seems bland after so many seasons, but to children, it’s interesting, novel, and amusing. I hope to help them preserve that outlook and hold onto mine, whatever is left of it, as long as I can.

Days of Innocence

who are you,little i

(five or six years old)

peering from some high

window; at the gold

of november sunset

(and feeling: that if day

has to become night

this is a beautiful way)

– E. E. Cummings