Puzzle, Part XXI

Those moments of beauty that strike you just as you walk into them
A back door left open in Autumn with no fear of entering mosquitoes
A lover's eyes open in the morning, waiting for yours
Sun hitting the house plants you had taken for granted
The clunk into first as Dad senses the light will turn green
A wet highway, an evening in early November
The glow of lamps through the windows of strange houses
Feet that squelch on snow-wet pant cuffs, the cold from the open door
falls down the stairs



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