Satirenoir's photostream  

A few months ago, I came across this poem as part of a daily email sent to me by a website. I was struck by the simplicity and pure, unabashed joy. Too often, poetry is sad and dark and full of hurt, and this poet was reacting to the notion that happiness doesn't make for interesting writing.

He certainly proved it with this small bit of verse.

I immediately wanted to put it against one of my favorite photographs, which on the outside is also nothing special... just two bare branches bending close and turning away. One day, this will appear on my wall.

This is from the Renaissance Festival back in September, out in nowheresville, Maryland.

... holding on. Always holding on.

And that light filtering through, barely visible above the horizon on a late fall day.

One perfect, fall leaf stuck on a twig... dangling several feet above the ground, late afternoon light filtering through the warm yellows and reds.

Yes, it's the little things.