The Private Moment

I went there at lunch.

I was still shocked at the number of minutes it took me. Once the corporate backyard melted away, autumn lingered with its playful summer temps. How so many long for it to say goodbye, to leave with us the crisp air that matches the colors on the leaves.

They swirled around as I became familiar with the roads. They reminded me of Amherst.

Maybe it was the sloppiness of the trees, leaving their bits all over, or maybe it was the winding roads that used to carry me back to school each autumn and then home again to remember where it all started for me.

And I turned past what I thought was our future. On its corner with its landscape for children, its Halloween lights on. No one was home...

It was the private moment I discovered just beyond there on the next street that made me pause and wonder.

He sat on the porch and looked older than I imagined. Was he looking at an album? He must have brought it because the house is empty.

Did he know the man who parks his truck nearby?

Did he see me and feel pressured that he must let go? That there was someone else watching, wanting the memories he would soon leave there?

He can take them with him.

There are new ones to make.