A smile landed in my lap today.
A snowy grid in vintage rosy frame.
It warned me not, just touched and blew away.
But blessed me with its sentiments the same.

It’s not the first, and surely not the last,
Though grins like these are few and far between.
They ease the slipping present into past,
And orchestrate the songs that futures sing.

They weren’t introduced, and never bow.
They’ve chatted with the fossils in their throe.
And in that breath, they’ve spoke with me just now,
And certainly with more, whom I won’t know.

They ramble on and on till they’re appeased,
Then chomp upon the currents to the next.
I’m glad one drifted by today, and seized
A moment on my knee to take a rest.

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