The Parade
Fall brings a gift
I dreamed a memory last night,
From before they left and I was alone,
Before age robbed me of movement and sight,
Before I sat inside, afraid.
We sat outside,
In the old oak’s crook.
They were young, my children,
Cuddled like two puppies looking for warmth,
My arms wrapped around them, saying I was there.
Red and yellow leaves fell,
Geese sounded off in the sky,
A squirrel scampered past.
Then a turkey and raccoon shared the leafy stage,
A doe foraged for acorns — mast, I think it’s called.
Then a peacock or emu rambled, off-balance and clownish,
(Though no peacocks or emus lived in the backwoods),
A boar shuffled by, snorting for lack of a hankie,
Then a buck, crowned with magnificent antlers.
Each animal a flurry of excitement in the confetti of falling leaves,
“Look there,” and “Cool, did you see?”
From young boys who only just learned to tie shoes or ride bikes.
It grew dark and time came to go home, but I was happy in the memory.
It wasn’t a memory of a happening.
More a memory of a feeling.
Secure. Together. At peace.
Love.
It’s growing dark.
I remember the love.
I can go home now.
