Written 9/16/20 at 10:23am

I adored the chill of the cool, crisp air

As it lightly wafted through my reddish-brown hair.

Aromatic pumpkin spice and warm pudding bowls of white rice.

Fresh ground coffee beans sting my nostrils.

A toasty kitchen, by means of a heated oven.

I remember

The revered women of my family bustling around

As if running a secret coven.

Ingredients littered the countertops.

It was heavenly to me.

Where my memories wildly roam free,

And sometimes get the best of me.


The apple trees outside of the window,

Inspire the reminiscent crescendos of

My name being called.

Hues of orange, brown, and yellow

Could mellow even the rudest stranger fellow.

Passersby migrate through Virginia heading South

In preparation for winter.

They enter and leave, following

The tempered breeze to the tropics,

Relocating just before the freeze!

However, people like me stick around,

Just to enjoy the optics of the

Freshest first fallen snow.

It’s a go for the child-at-hearts.

The smart folks who realize that

Money spent is worth lots less

Than the memory art that

Experience creates.

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