<html><head><meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"></head><body style="word-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space;" class=""><div dir="auto" style="word-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; -webkit-line-break: after-white-space;" class=""><div class="">Raking the Leaves with Jack</div><div class=""><i style="font-size: 14px;" class="">for Jack Ridl and all the rakers</i></div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class=""> </div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">Pulling the rake through the cottonwood leaves,</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">I think of Jack in Michigan pulling his rake</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">through beech, birch, oak and ash leaves.</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">I stop to lean on my rake and I think</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">of him stopping to lean on his rake</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">and talk to the gods. I’m not so sure I believe</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">in gods, but I believe in Jack. I believe in kindness.</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">I believe in friendship that grows despite distance.</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">I believe that these rhythms of raking and making piles</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">bring us closer together—all of us rakers, all of us</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">who step into the slow cadence of pull and reach,</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">and pull and reach. There is something unifying</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">in this annual act of tidying the world. Every day</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">the news is full of all we can’t set right. But we</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">can drag the rake through the yard so that we</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">can see the path again. And we can set the rake</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">aside and stare at the sky and think of all</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">the people we love and all the people</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">we’ll never know who join us in this simple act,</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">reach and pull, reach and pull, reach and pull,</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">the sound of metal tines grating, the beat</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">of our own hearts scraping against our chests.</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class=""> </div><div class=""><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>- Rosemerry Trommer</div></div></body></html>