Nutshells on patched linoleum,

cracks skipped over

on the long sidewalk home,

hide-and-go-seek game

we stopped counting.

Still sometimes we hunt

for that small face,

ragged sleeve above

a chapped hand.

We search beneath

decayed porches, through

yards full of dry weeds

and rusted cans.

The blown years blanket

our steps, leaving

only here and there

a dull gleam like spent

cartridges beneath

another Autumn’s leaves.