The Kitten and the Falling Leaves

by William Wordsworth

See the kitten on the wall, sporting with the leaves that fall,
Withered leaves—one—two—and three, from the lofty elder-tree!
Through the calm and frosty air, of this morning bright and fair . . .
—But the kitten, how she starts; Crouches, stretches, paws, and darts!

First at one, and then its fellow, just as light and just as yellow;
There are many now—now one—now they stop and there are none;
What intenseness of desire, in her upward eye of fire!

With a tiger-leap half way, now she meets the coming prey,
Lets it go as fast, and then, has it in her power again:
Now she works with three or four, like an Indian Conjuror;
Quick as he in feats of art, far beyond in joy of heart.

Snow Day

by Emmaline Winter

The snow came in on little cat feet
fluffy and white.
Seeming out of place
against the purple gray steel of the sky.

They call it A WINTER STORM
but it was nearly silent.
The quiet hiss of almost nothing
landing on the grass.

Standing at the window
I watched it fall.
The sight of the flakes filling me with joy
just as they fill up the road.

Nothing is not nothing
when it makes me feel like this.
I never get bored
of watching for those first few flakes.


Anon