Before they lie there, crumpled, dry,
They danced a ballet in the sky.
Once upon a branch hung they
Until the chilly turn of day.

Here at Autumn's stage they dress
A flutter at the wind's caress
Where, painted by the dwindling light
Just ahead of winter's bite,
The leaves begin their curtain call
A dress rehersal for the fall.

The spotlight of the Autumn sun
Golds, yellows and reds as one,
Begin the dance for splendor's sake
Into the gardener's ready rake.

10/05/2001

Posted on 10/05/2001
Copyright © 2024 Mary Ellen Smith