fullsizerender9Gold drips from barren trees

Sunlight older in the afternoon

Grown tired, brown leaves scatter

Wind carries them where it will

Winter’s coming to the fields,

The parks, the streets, the neighborhoods

Old man huddles in his room

Blanket drawn high to chest

He knew a love once, long ago

Love gone now, his memories devouring

Looks out through the window pane

Neighbor kids playing on the lawn

Leaves piled high, and then they jump

They laugh–he sees smiling faces

But only hears the hiss of the radiator

Kicking on now for the first time

Bone-dry heat fills the tiny room

And the blanket falls again