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.
from Autumn Sky Poetry DAILY, October 23, 2015 — by S. Thomas Summers
photo by Christine Klocek-Lim
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