Greetings from the Past
When a fern says hello,
you should be flattered.
Walking under this autumn-drench
of late fall’s lingering leaves,
rust-colored at their brightest—
all crowding out from a fence—
suddenly your chin is smoothed
by a still green fern’s
Three hundred million years have said hello!
Making you feel as young
as the sudden, fluttering snowflakes
whirling in November’s
newborn rising wind.
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