As I walked out one winter morn
Where I was stopping
I saw the first palpable frost
on my sunrise walk
December 12
all over the yet-green
spread a light blue-gray veil
giving a new show
to the entire landscape
I had little time
to notice it
for the sun rose
cloudless and mellow-warm
and as I returned
along the lane
it had turned to glittering
patches of wet
And as I walk
I notice the bursting pods
of wild-cotton
the so-called Indian hemp
with flossy-silky contents
and dark red-brown seeds
I pull a handful
of the balsamic
life-ever-lasting
and stuff it down
into my trouser pocket
for scent
Walt Whitman
Adapted from Specimen Days (1882) by John Lyons