Only Memory Poem by Barry Middleton

I am left with only memory
I creep into the day
past landscapes of home

I still can hear the squeak
of a wooden farmhouse floor
I still can hear the voices

this time of year in autumn
I cannot wait to get outdoors
the air is crisp and cool

the muted colors of fall
blanket the hills with images
the woods are like a magnet

within the shadowed copse
the animals prepare for winter
donning their thick fur coats

I know that we are ready
the harvest is stored
the jars are on the pantry shelf

so it is as I grow old
the lessons were so simple
yet hard to fulfill

memory brings them back
all that matters is history
all that ever mattered is there