Roasted Pumpkin Seeds

Roasted pumpkin seeds rewind the cinema
In a black and white filmy grain once past
Like grandfather’s small television box
That displays every Major League event

Their sweet aroma rolls a reel of autumn
That flickers as it shows a family of four
Raking sunset leafs and scattered twigs
Into festive pumpkin garbage bags

The smallest, recognizable as me
Scoops using bare scratched hands
Piling a trove of October memories
Into the smile closest to the curve

And I reach out touching the screen
Mouthful of seeds sucking ferociously
As if he could here me, our heartbeats
Synced together for a final request

But as I tap the screen, he hums
Forgetting this man’s silent words
I spit out my mouthful of seeds
Because they too, have lost flavor