pictured words

Photo of the Maumee autumn sky by Keith R. Good

A Stroll

My favorite time of year.
The cool air and nearly setting sun
beg my attention.
It feels good to need a hoodie and jeans.
The sound of leaves crunching beneath my feet
makes me smile.

In the distance,
drum cadence announces that tonight
we have a home high school football game.
This sound has been part of my life
since childhood. 
The sound of my dad’s heartbeat, it seems.
Nostalgia of the best kind, though through misted eyes.

The deep blue sky I refer to as autumn blue
is interspersed with puffy white and charcoal. 
This combination delights me.

I spot an elderly gentleman in a neighbor’s yard.
Perhaps he is related to my neighbor, but
I don’t recognize him

until I do.
He waves.  I wave back, pretending
I knew him all along.  Pretending
I didn’t notice the new elderly gait.
The hunch.

My attention turns to the shadow
accompanying me as I stroll.
And I again pretend not to notice
the new elderly gait. 
The hunch. 

The earth’s tilt this time of year makes
the sunlight strike at a lower angle.
My eyes gaze
at the elongated tree branch shadows

before lifting to the sky in time
to catch deep purple and orange
fade to pink and lavender. 
I feel my eyes smiling
my heart calming
and the call to return home.

As I approach the house,
Mom and Dad’s antique
Tiffany-style lamp
brightens the window
and casts a glow
on the blooming hydrangea tree
we call Patricia, after my mom.
Contentment washes over me.

© Marie Elena Good 2026