Emma Lee Dickinson

*another chilly day in the autumn sky greets me as I hear the usual laughter of children outside my window. As I sit atop my balcony, in the midst of penning my latest poem, I notice the basket of fresh, delicate fruit that I have laid out for not too long. I take it, and as I start slowly lowering it from the rope that I keep for this very occasion, I can’t help but feel a smile creep on my face seeing the smiles of waiting children eager for a nutritious snack. As the children leave, happy with their nutritious fruit, the wind suddenly picks up, and causes my dress to blow freely in its direction. I wrap myself in my arms as it feels quite cold, and I close my eyes, not wanting any autumn debris to catch within my eyes. When I open my eyes once more, and look back to the street from atop my balcony, I see a new stranger darken the streets below. I have never seen them before, and I look upon them with intrigue and interest as I do with all new strangers. As I continue to hold myself, desperate to warm myself from the chilly autumn wind, I do find the strength to wordlessly wave to the stranger, and give them a soft, polite smile, wishing them a good day, and good tidings.