Early November
just after the first frost
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Driving South 79 to 19
to 77 and beyond
A procession of motor homes
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shiny and bright as just unwrapped Popsicles
Does not matter if we believe
in the Garden before the first Sin
Or if we evolved
upon our own two feet
We are compelled by instinct
to leave our nests of furnace and snow
And follow the honking birds to the warm, salty air
a little down the road from retirement.
— Francesco Pasqualino
Francesco Pasqualino is a full-time restaurateur and part-time writer who lives in Fox Chapel.
First Published: November 14, 2015, 5:00 a.m.