The sky invites
The sycamores to dance.
Bend and sway
Curtsying to one another
In proper fashion.
Meanwhile the leaves have flown.
They turn up around back
Loitering by the steps,
Rabble rousing and wild dancing…
Waiting for the night wind
to whisk them away.
I’m very thankful that the leaves in the country don’t require raking, piling, bagging, and stacking. The night wind just whisks them away…
This was originally posted in November of 2014.
November 2017 is national novel writing month around here. So, yeah, don’t bug me, I’m finishing my novel…