leaves.

there's nothing like watching a tiny leaf,

go from green to brown.

filter through the shades of red,

wear a rustic, golden gown.

swim in circles gracefully

and settle on the ground,

covered in the crunchy markers

made for autumn sound.

and when a leaf dares to brave

the "bracing," "offset" cold,

the kind of chill that tucks you in

another lover's hold,

there will come a tender moment

when it chooses, "Free!",

but makes a home amongst the folds

of baby's fleecy sheets.

and as they gurgle,

giggle,

wiggle,

with tiny arms outstretched,

the leaf will float,

and flip,

and dote,

on Sarah's nice white dress.

With a flick, Sara's swish

will offset leafy's dance,

and to the floor will tumble in some

autumnal nonchalance.

and once again, the autumn spirit

doubles in romance,

as red and orange, brown and yellow,

fit pensive circumstance.