autumn memory jogs...

many times you told me
of your protest to autumn
"know you love it,
but it makes me sad."
every year
with the first
fallen dress
blazing orange.

"he loved it.
knew this poem.
dancing leaves."
every year
with this glisten
in your eye
that reflected
everything he was.

"wish you could
remember your pawpaw."
every year
you tell me.
he loved my curls.

"things were simpler"
you say
and every year
i live
i see it more.

remember that halloween?
it snowed. remember?
i was thrilled with them.
ruby slippers.
gingham dress.
i was tall for 8.
you hemmed it for me.
independent even then,
i was defiant.
i was going to curl
those pigtails myself.
ended up with a scorch mark.
and then it snowed.
remember? it snowed!

across the street
that lady who had,
what i imagined,
a secret garden.
with those bleeding hearts.
she'd forgot the holiday.
she thought i was heidi.

"i hate it."
every year.

"i love it."
every year.

"i know you do.
but i miss him.
can't you remember?"

and i don't.

because so much
of my happy memory
is tied up in you.
that is enough
to keep up my devotion to autumn.