burning leaves

the leaves
in the barrel
burning, sending
smoke
into the air
a smell unlike
any other.
the crackle
of twigs, of the dried
oak, and maple
leaves
before winter,
before
the snow,
the ice. the leaves
were gathered
and burned.
you remember
that and miss that
simple act
of gathering
at your father's
foot, the leaves.
how you circle back
with a scent
born in childhood.