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first October without my father

6273050329 3deb52333a z first October without my father

The Autumn smells

    of dark, damp earth

    like potatoes kept in cellars below houses

    or apples stored for Christmas pies,

    chrysanthemums that seem to open the pores,

    expand the air,

    the fragrance of late season roses

    and during a walk in the woods,

    embraced by the smell of cedars,

    I turn my head and recognize the scent of my father,

    caught in the denim jacket

    that I borrowed

   to shield myself

   from this Fall rain.

3 Comments (Add Yours)

  1. Very nice poem, and photo. I like the combination. Both written and digital images strong, stronger together.

  2. beautiful words.
    how i adore you.

  3. such tangible imagery. i can vividly imagine the heartache of this moment.

    sending you love.

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