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A White-Haired Man

By December 11, 2021No Comments

By Gayanne Ramsden

The air smells like onion,  
And autumn grapes,  
And leaves rolled up and crushed in your mind.  
Pumpkins and marigolds flame  
Color-bright upon eyes  
That see flowers bloom in the season's slow-brilliant death  
Under a warm grey Hallow' s Eve sky.  
Leftover summer roses and summer children's voices  
Linger into fall.  
A white-haired man pauses at his door,  
I, part of his memory, he becoming a piece of mine,  
We glance hello, then drop our gaze  
Downward to leaves golden and brown  
Becoming winter's under-snow harvest
That will feed the spring.  
Still autumn day, stop and  
Place yourself in my recollections  
Where sometime in eternity  
A breath-held autumn's dusk  
of roses and grape leaves  
will come again to me .  

Gayanne Ramsden