Dove tails that flutter and softly fall,
like masses moving in orange parades,
from wooden houses standing so tall,
hidden by vibrant golden crinkles.
One bounds to earth and then another,
a circus of twirls and motley hues.
One’s speckled yellow while the other,
holds colors rose and rusted maroon.
This display like acrobats surprise,
and delight some with their new pigments,
especially those little curious eyes,
who lie beneath like a natural quilt.
Author notes
This is my tribute to autumn. It talks about leaves changing colors and falling form the tress and little children playing in the piles of leaves.
Comments
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Adoring, I don't mind fall, I am fortunate to experience all the seasons, but winter does give me the blues. Everything barren and dead, the last lines are joyful to imagine. Excellent. Blessings.
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