Sue,
I think any problems there might have been about attempting definition are
avoided by the last stanza. By offering such an understated definition, I
think you neatly avoid pitfalls such as sentimentality.
Matt
-----Original Message-----
From: Sue Scalf [mailto:[log in to unmask]]
Sent: 21 October 2003 12:35
To: [log in to unmask]
Subject: new: Brief as a Breath
THIS EMAIL HAS BEEN SWEPT FOR VIRUSES BY THE NORTHCLIFFE GROUP MAILSWEEPER
SERVER.
Brief as a Breath, Happiness
returns in morning's pewter light.
It is there in the hiss of waves
and at night the glow of sand
brings it back again.
In autumn happiness sifts through leaves,
lingers with the scent of cider in the air,
caresses with the feel of a warm robe
after a cold, damp walk.
In winter it appears with Debussey
and conjured memories of other days.
It is there in firelight's molten heart
and shadows in a darkened room.
Tell me what joy is, or ask.
I shall say it is a wisp, little else,
no more than a kiss upon the lips
or words whispered there.
Sue Scalf
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