Of Parchment Scored

Old leaves litter
the forest floor,
sacred scraps
of parchment
scored

by a season’s hand;
children gather
each crinkled skin,
mustard and wine,
olive and gold,

as wizards and sages
gather a millennium’s
history, trace
cold fingers
across a page’s

wrinkles and ink,
discovering
the possibilities
of beauty,
the tragedies

of loss, hanging the solemn
passages of autumn
on the refrigerator door,
the stories mommy
and daddy must learn.

by S. Thomas Summers

Twitter: @summerspoet

Editor’s Note: This poem encapsulates autumn, the history of writing, and the beginning of literacy… and then it somehow ties all of this into the emotional trauma of parenthood.