Autumn's Leaves

I know ... those who have long memories will recall having seen this one before ... but I hope they ... and you ... will forgive my repeating myself.

It is beginning to seem autumn-like again here in Ohio ... cooler temperatures ... and some of the trees in my neck of the woods have started hinting at autumn hues.

Now where did I put that rake?

Even with all the raking involved, I still consider autumn my favorite season. 

Oh, there are certain redeeming qualities about spring, the new growth signaling the end of winter. And summer, too, if it doesn't get unbearably hot ... I like the good walking that season provides. And even winter has its moments of beauty.

But autumn ... well, there's just something about autumn ... quiet, cool evenings ... the play of late sunshine across the colors of the foliage ... and sunrise ... oh, sunrise simply outdoes itself. 

I like the show that the trees provide. Always have. Always will ... even with all that raking.

The poem:

AUTUMN'S LEAVES

Across the fence,

my neighbor's trees

droop with tons

of gorgeous leaves,

and here I stand

with a single rake

to defend against

the inevitable.

© 1996

(originally published in Capper's)

Today's word: inevitable