Smell of smoke; smell of chill.
Wind changes; turns misty.
Leaves flee the storm; Red, Gold, Orange.
Ladies squee and grab for skirts.
Little kids laugh and run.
Comes the porch lit dusk.
Scramble in and push the door shut.
Against the gust and shiver.
1st and Main; Beef stew.
2nd and Oak; Chili.
3rd and Broad; Chinese Take-out.
Favorite lamps punch golden squares
In slate-shadowed havens.
Baths, pajamas, Charlie Brown.
Playoff baseball; warm mug.
Smell of chill, smell of smoke.
Heart changes; turns misty.
I am linking this Memory I’d Like To Have with Falling Back Into Blogging @ The SITS girls.