Time Traveler.

Time Traveler.

I bury myself face first

in the gathered remnants

of another summer fallen.

Tumbling like a wayward leaf,

into the multi-colored 

fragrance of yesterday.

What a heady aroma

assails me floating me

back to childhood days.

Black buckled boots

kicking their way

through six inches

of autumn on my 

path to school.

Scratchy like an

old man's beard,

your grandpas kiss,

and yet soft like

a mother's caress

on a fevered brow.

I open my eyes 

in a squint to savor,

the brilliant pastel

mosaic below me.

The crick-crackle of

this huge pile of leaves 

sounds so much

like candy wrappers

at Halloween

which looms 

just around the corner.

Several of my neighbors

gaze with amusement and

ponder the level of my sanity.

Their long abandoned youth

simply burns the debris

of what was and moves on.

But I feel so much

like an eight year old,

as I snuggle in 

this bed of the past,

sharing dreams

long forgotten.

Soon enough though I rise,

and rake the shedding

of the season


into black body bags

lined up in neat rows

for the Waste

management truck

that will be by

come mourn.