a ghost of autumn
haunts the summer evening air
and future falls past
four buildings red brick
heavy, tall, anchor corners
of corridored walls
with archways midway
within the square’s open heart
a wide green courtyard
these well-worn walkways
through grass and stout-rooted trees
quietly waiting
footsteps through dry leaves
the swish and crunch and crackle
papery whispers
smells of hot coffee
chai with cloves and cinnamon
steam in low gold light
laughed conversation
yellow sweater, faded jeans
blue eyed poetry
now decades later
planted on a barren lawn
logy sunlight fading
dim recollections
kindle a last orange spark
to guide the spirit
No comments:
Post a Comment