quabbin dream

woods like fiery calico
patchwork across the lake--
another season arrives with its bluster,
its demands stitched in crimson,
brittle-hearted like dry leaves.

 -- you are still gone --

picture my children greeting you--
smiles preserved in a weathered frame,
dancing like leaves in an autumn wind.
but all i have is your words
stitched in crimson into a fiery heart.