Mementos

I return home and empty my coat pockets
I pour out the cinnamon scented coins
scraps of paper, and the red of autumn leaves
I dig out the heavy air, and the smell of old books
mixed with the smell of rain,
and the spice of freshly cut grass
I shake out the last of the city lights
and the sound of footsteps on sidewalks
and so I gather up these pieces of moments
and tuck them away, to be pulled out and admired
when the memories themselves begin to fade