these days are for:
white linen envelopes with inky scripts and floral liners and old time stamps. bright faced dahlias. the last of our apple bounty cloaked in cinnamon, spritzed with lemon, simmering down to a velvet, sweet sauce. a basket of cozy slippers at the foot of the bed. dress fittings and tuxedo fittings and the postman dropping pretty parcels on the doorstep many an afternoon. trees gilding inward & upward from the fingertips. the earliest rumblings of christmas wishes. sweaters shifted to the low shelf, tee shirts exiled to the high. django reinhardt filling our ears. the whirl and hum of cold milk spinning into clouds for morning coffee. the eastward wall of the treehouse, upon which october paints a most brilliant, marigold scene.