Memories of Burning Leaves
I recall smokey tree lined streetsAnd warm wool sweaters corduroys
Fresh cut hair with brillcream and
A pocket comb replete with red
Ball jets running just because
I could run till I was breathless
And it felt good to stop and
Talk to Mr. Chambers as he
Tended the smouldering leaves
Red and orange in the gutters
Dressed in worn sport coat
And last years gabardine pants
His weekend clothes with worn
Brown oxfords and a rake with
A polished hickory handle a bowl
Of Wakefield in his pipe
A smile and pleasant conversation
The man a brillcreamed lad
once long ago now longs for a
Pleasant conversation over long
Lost smouldering leaves on
A Smokey tree lined street
Long lost long ago
Poetry by josephus
Read 271 times
Written on 2020-09-23 at 00:45
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ken d williams |
