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