Freshly Baked Pumpkin Pie
the new windows have frost inside
and the birds are fat in the tree branches
their feathers puffed out, their heads
tucked back into their bodies.
lines of cars flicker in and out
of view, hidden in clouds of exhaust
at stop lights, drivers hardly visible
behind frosty or snow-crusted windshields.
the world moves in slow motion, careful
not to release precious pockets of warmth
from under wings, from pockets, scarves
or from under hats. We trudge to work
reluctantly, eager to return home
to warm kitchens and the smell of
freshly baked pumpkin pie.
the new windows have frost inside
and the birds are fat in the tree branches
their feathers puffed out, their heads
tucked back into their bodies.
lines of cars flicker in and out
of view, hidden in clouds of exhaust
at stop lights, drivers hardly visible
behind frosty or snow-crusted windshields.
the world moves in slow motion, careful
not to release precious pockets of warmth
from under wings, from pockets, scarves
or from under hats. We trudge to work
reluctantly, eager to return home
to warm kitchens and the smell of
freshly baked pumpkin pie.
Photo courtesy of http://flickr.com/photos/sgoralnick/286851396/
1 comment:
Hee hee. I know where that came from! My house did smell wonderful...
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