father in autumn

autumn leaves swirl

pushing forward the clock

as we remark passing seasons

but also reminding me of childhood

privilege of diving into the pile of leaves

laboriously raked by wearied father

who smiled, nonetheless,

to hear our laughter

remember to respect

my eyes are tired as i work hours

at a setting on my play

while the summer heat

builds the allergy count

just outside my window

but i am not wielding a pickax

or tarring a road under the hot sun

so, i have little to complain of

when so many as worthy as i

are working in greater pain