"Pumpkin Skies and Featherbed Nights"

The pumpkins are ripe
ready for picking.
The nights are cold
ready for the featherbeds.
The lonely Winter finds
me remembering.
Janice, Nedra and Cara,
the three Hall girls
who grew up at
524 East Elm Street
in a small Ohio town.
Moving on to find and form
their own families.
The years flew by
and time etched it marks
on their lives.
I remember seeing dad
the day before he died.
He was sick, a bad cough.
It did him in.
Mom was in her eighties
when she quietly slipped
away from us.
Aunt Grace is gone
but, the memory of her
angel food cakes survives in
memory of a young child.
Aunt Wilma could walk under
the kitchen table
when she was ten.
Moms family was big and nearby,
dad had only one sister
who was far away.
Old age is catching
those Hall girls.
For once being the youngest
has an advantage.
There is much to remember
packed away in the old boxes
in the Hall closet.
The past is mixed with the present
full of good times with
children, grandchildren, and friends.
Life carried me here for today.
Perhaps life is the package
wrapped in the red ribbon
delivered at the gate the
night before Christmas.
I wiggle and squirm each day
to find the right slot
to send me on my way
mixing memories and moments
I fondly remember the pumpkin skies
and featherbed nights.