The leaves change complexion
as they anticipate autumn’s wind,
colors telling everyone
that winter’s walking in.
 

The swaying trees
let the leaves
fall with vacillating ease
‘till they softly touch the ground.
and i love to hear that crisp crunching sound
as they’re being stepped upon.
 

Then i rake them up into nice neat mounds
for dad to take away...
but before he’d get there, i would stay
in tinted brittle leaves, i would lay.
 

Then encouraged by the sun
i’d have some fun
by messing up the lawn...
then it appeared to me
that the ingenious of she
was right where they belonged.