Out in the dead leaf weather a man sits
Wondering where he was when the embers caught
Was he hugging his daughter in the airport terminal
Driving the long way home alone
Or have weeks gone by since a decade turned to ash?
He left the garage door open to let the wind clear it away
And watches the cardboard fragments, the paper ashes leaving
He wonders why he ever collected them in the first place.
Substituting ink for memory
Hoarding pages to stave off the inevitable decay
Let it come, and find the fires already burning
Too early to fade to black, so let the dust collect.
Now the cold wind stokes the flame
Sends him off to replace the decade lost—
He closes the garage before he goes
Photo by S. Hermann & F. Richter (username pixel2013) on Pixabay