Michigan
With the end of summer
Comes breezes and
Back to school smells
Leather bindings and
Pine needles
The sweet smell of decay
Skies turn grey and
Leaves turn orange..
and yellow.
Rains turn cold and misty
And slowly
Smoke starts rising
From a chimney here and there
And soon
There’s nothing like a walk in the evening
The crisp light layer
of new snow
and the smell of smoke
and the wood burning
I wonder to myself
What you’re doing in there
By that fire
Mom is telling stories
As we crunch along..
At a clip
Faces burning (From the cold)
As I have fleeting thoughts
Of green leaves rustling
Against a blue sky
Hair turns greasy
From whipping in the wind
Across your face
Across my face
And the sugary smell
And the sound it makes
When you drag your feet
In the warm Michigan sand.
It’s made of quartz you know.