Raking leaves in November

Grey November afternoon.
Very late for raking leaves.
Used to be a family affair,
with children running in the yard,
making mischief.
Now, it is a one-man job.
The autumn leaves
still smell fragrant.
The crisp cold air
still pleasing to breathe.
Toiling away, I seem to hear
the voice of late wife,
yelling at us,
barking orders.
Oh, how I used to hate this job.
Yard work is so exhausting.
Why is it that
even bad old days
seem so lovely now?

Published author, Zen teacher, professor, scientist, philosopher, social commentator, socially-engaged human

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