The storm arrived in sleep's deepest hours,
And stayed 'til noon in spitting showers.
Its chilly wind disturbed the weather.
We dashed inside to don our sweaters.
All along the road the leaves were flying,
They seemed alive and in no way dying.
Fluttering, fighting, and flying down,
Yellow and red, green and brown.
Above it all the gray-blue sky
Was watercolor majesty.
I am skipping along the road,
The wind has loosened my heavy load.
And I am happy that autumn's come,
The sultry days of summer, done.
I am alive and in no way dying,
Like the maple leaves, free and flying.
copyright, M.K. Christiansen