fall berried

Irioptika

you were 86
and i was 6 or 8...
home in the fall
past your ancient dark house
i would stop to collect hickories
from the tree in your yard.
we got to be friends in the afternoon light
and in the upstairs parlor you showed me your
notebooks
filled with sketches of everything you saw
in the afternoon light.
and
you taught me:
to open the hickories,
share them with all the skittering shy small creatures
so i might learn to draw them, too.