l’automne

Your bookshelves are empty.

Outside, the leaves fall.

We’re waiting through

The saddest autumn of all.

Your piano is sleeping—

Too great for my hands.

Still, I will play

‘Til my heart understands.

I took home your paper

To sketch out your face,

But you have a smile

That art can’t replace.

The trees out your window

Have all become bare.

So I search my heart:

You will always be there.

[image error]I’m thankful to have this beautiful woman for a grandmother. And I’m thankful to have her for another Thanksgiving.