The Smell of Fall 

The Smell of Fall   

I was a melancholy child

They used to burn leaves on the streets 
Of Richmond, Indiana.  The streets 
Rustled under our feet. 
Swishing through the night 
In scare-garbs, my sister and I 
In town visiting our cousins, 
We swished door to door bumming 
Sweets, big bags full 
To take back to the farm on the hill 
And dip into for the next two, three days. 

But the smell of fall and school 
Always pressed me to crave 
Summer, this rustling fall 
Whispering in my face 
And though I barely caught the words, 
Their meaning was cold and clear 
And their promise kept when morning 
Broke and the ground was covered. 
Fall had turned on me 
And made walking down the hill slippery.