The Autumn Burn
by L. Stewart Marsden
Do you smell that?
That smarvelous smoldering smoke
of the burning leaves of autumn?
A funeral pyre to the soft days of summer —
A beacon to woo the wild winds of winter;
A pungent spice to sprinkle
on gourds and squash and pumpkins and mincemeats?
To nestle with in woolen socks and cosy Afghan blankets?
Do you smell that?
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LOVE that scent. Smells to me of my old childhood neighborhood and goes hand in hand with the sound of fathers using chainsaws on weekends. Back when fathers used chainsaws on weekends. (Can’t wait to read your book!)
Reblogged this on Writing Odds n Ends and commented:
Inhale . . . exhale . . . inhale . . .
Yes, I do! Reblogged on Frederick Anderson
Thank you, Sir!
Reblogged this on Frederick Anderson.
Hopped over here from Frederick Andersons’ blog. Just had to leave some comment love to tell you how much I loved this. Thanks for transporting me into the heart of autumn!
Thank you!