Thoughts in Autumn

The leaves collapsed into clusters
of russet, orange, and red darkening into brown
I learned to call maroon when I was ten,
and driving with my family in our car
to look at leaves and buy some apples
and dusky concord grapes that grow in the Finger Lakes,
our Umbria, our Grassmere, our nirvana of New York State.
It’s one thing to go to school, your pencils new,
your shoes unscuffed and shiny,
it’s another to see your children leave the house
and return you know not when

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About Patricia Markert

Moviegoer.
This entry was posted in autumn, poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

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