October

October smells lonely
like crispy leaves
that rustle when you kick through them
and itch when they get in your socks

October tastes
red and white and brown and orange and yellow
like the trees on the hillsides back home
and  the ice on early morning puddles
that crunches under waiting on the buses sneakers

The sounds of October
are the sounds of apples falling from the trees
grapes slowly turning to raisins in the orchard
and the snort of horses with steam rising from their withers in the frosty field

In my eyes, October is
Home, no matter where my behind sits
wood smoke from fire places and hoodys even at noon
It is hugs from family and cocoa and coffee in a steaming cup
and the stiff walk of kids clad in snow suits beneath halloween costumes.

October is always closest to my heart
and makes me smile
in longing sadness
for being back in the arms of home.

The Smells of October

I walk the
Childhood pathways of my mind
Think
remember
dream
of the Octobers
my feet have trod

Dry and frost bitten
field corn smells
gold and musty

Maple and Oak leaves
smell crunchy beneath booted feet
red and yellow and orange and brown
dry and crispy and rotting

White is the smell of mud puddles
that crunch
beneath feet
stamping up and down
waiting on the diesel smelling
school bus sliding and brake farting
up to the driveway
White is how cold wet feet are
when they break through the ice
and sink into the squishy mud

Now they smell
warm and dry and green and tan
leaves cling deliberately to branches
and grass shrivels in the too hot heat
sweat and dust
cling to everything
and Halloween is all about keeping cool enough
instead of finding a costume
to fit over snow suit and boots

October smells always
like cider and coffee and tea
and caramel apples and candy corn
rustling ripped wrappers
from candy sneaked from bags
as little feet hang back
from watchful eyes

October smells homesick
and of missed hugs
and shared mornings
but also smells
of wide open windows
warm breezes
and trains signing to owls
in the clinging darkness