Comforts sensed vs. comforts seen.
|Bitter wind across the ears and nose and face
enrich the warmth of every threshold's kind embrace
Musks of mothball, cedar, stiff and well creased wool;
long rested wardrobes yawn to stretch and wake
Steeping pots a'murmer in their scheming
while Kerr and Ball make safe long Summer's toil
Spice and cider, sweet and strong and steaming,
brighten distant hollow chants of logs well met
The final march of Autum's banners' labored gleanings:
Heaps of gleeful laughter, smokey ash, then naught
The spring and slap of every storm door come the evening;
pop and crackles bid still chimenys to arise
The knell of fading Autumn's cruelish leaving
ushers good and pleasant comfort beyond our eyes.