Today I spent an afternoon playing with my son in giant piles of leaves that we had together raked. A nostalgia for my own early childhood sidled up beside me with the crisp scent of autumn and the chill that wove its spell on us both. The abandon of play is something that it is so easy to forget, and in this, it is he that leads the way.
Time wafted by us; one of those forever moments that hangs and waits for you to catch up. His laughter filled our yard and told me that today, at least, was a day to remember.
Winter’s hand holds hard to Autumn.
When crystalline lace whitens the pale morning,
I remember loss in the days when hours were months;
a farewell to color for the ages.
Now, as years have both dulled and enhanced my eyes
I gaze in wonder upon innocence at play.
Looking forward seems easy
when all you have is forward times.
The endless yesterday but a dream,
giving minimal form to the moment.
Pharmakeutes' Dreams 