Sally never swept her well-weathered front porch when Autumn colours called
It wasn't some form of rebellion; she just really loved the Fall
And all the leaves that touched down became her natural wall to wall patchwork
Some nights she’d step outside stocking-clad or in bare feet
There she’d push the leaves around and around with her toes in childish fun . . .
Feeling, some were brittle, loaded with crackle while . . . others felt silky smooth
She’d even bend sometime’s to collect them and carry each kind inside
Under the light of a magnifying glass she’s study their structure well
. . . Thinking what kind of story they'd tell!
She’d sprinkle leaves over her sofa and maybe a few in her car
And of course she’d create different designs and make her favorite a maple leaf star
Her neighbors couldn’t wait to rake them away or bag them for the dump
Another sack of sadness carelessly carried, burned and buried as rubbish lump
Don’t they see the beauty here? Instead they make leaves disappear!
So . . . Now we must wait yet another year to watch this leafy show.
This seasons a marvel of magic, so fleeting we have just a smidgeon of days
To witness the beauty unravel from whence a tree each came
Ah the bold and beautiful presence when attached or sent in flight release
Some go cartwheeling across the pavement finding a pleasant resting spot
Sally never swept her well-weathered front porch when Autumn colours called.