Shower of leaves

the trees of the grove start their yearly dance

I can hear them rustle and see them twitch



like a case of nerves that settles in, while waiting in the wings

an unknown metronome clicks


their performance starts

the first act you may miss, if not in your seat

as colors peep through the green

red, orange, yellow, brown

autumnal hues slide and mingle their way through the bushy boughs

more each day

the second act is quicker, an allegro pace

the rain and the wind accelerando the pace

quite a show


the ash leaves trickle down from their lofty heights

the dogwood’s leaves pierce their shower de côté

flashes of crimson mixed with marigold

the maples bring their performers spinning and swaying perfectly

adding texture and stateliness to the dance

the torrent of leaves is brief, before the final movement

quiet, slow, lento

the leaves fall with


not a sound

to rest.

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