Another poem from my daughter-in-law, Kelly Herbert

Grandfather Oak
by Kelly Herbert

An oak tree in autumn,
Has the nostalgic power
Not unlike the timeless smell of grandpa’s aftershave.
Its reassuring stance fills the eye,
Warm and familiar.
They will linger through the winter,
Those golden leaves,
Holding on to the memory of a life well lived.
Curling slightly,
Leathery,
Crisp.
Unlike a maple leaf,
They do not call out to grab your eye;
Their color,
Consistent and friendly,
Is indifferent to the flamboyance of fall.