I love it when…
the sun is bright on red-tipped maple trees in the fall
that smell is in the air
the one that reminds me of crunching Wisconsin leaves under my feet
and a Packer game waiting to be cheered.


Apple cider, hay rides in the fields and pumpkins smashing
all memories of a lifetime ago
when I was me
it has been so long
I look back with such nostalgia
and can hardly imagine what my life would have been like
without that Thanksgiving nightmare

Would the sun shine brighter?
would the reds be redder?
what would me – be?
the foreign reporter I dreamed of?

I always thought my life had no limits
until the scars put the brakes on all my possibilities
reduced my life to those crunching leaves,
in pieces
flittering away

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