Paul buried himself in fallen leaves.
He tried to capture something.
He tried to recapture his youth.
Traces of it existed in this action.
He played with the thought
if he fell asleep under the pile of leaves
he would wake up
at seven or eight years old.
Paul napped a little.
Mostly he dreamt his childhood.
The happy parts and imagination.
When there was a map and X marked the spot.
He emerged from the pile of leaves.
Paul reached up and drank a cup of the Milky Way.
copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney
