Of a stern and ancient November <br />afternoon, life retreats from us <br />slowly yet incessantly. <br /> <br />As it inches away, how precious <br />becomes the bus driver's warm <br />welcoming nod, the sincere smile <br />of a bank teller asking, 'How <br />have you been? ' <br /> <br />How magnified by a thousand <br />become these small gestures <br />of kindness, recognized now <br />for what they have always been: <br />priceless, irreplaceable treasures.<br /><br />David Kowalczyk<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/like-portentous-shadows/
