I mistook the feeling for a cold.
My loss of appetite and fatigue symptoms
of germs acquired through casual contact.
Maybe because October started on a Thursday,
without the dread a Monday brings
or the predictable end of a Sunday.
After the accident, I tuned out
all reminders of my father,
even the pennant races he loved,
which I loved because of him.
But this infection waited for crisp, autumn air
to stir up leaves that had fallen away.
In loving memory of Louis Stevenson Taylor, Sr., August 30, 1946 - October 8, 2003
The Living Poetry Project and NEVERMORE
8 years ago
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