Fall leaves not fallen
Hang on the trees in color.
When morning skies are blue
And temperatures are cool
I trample the ground leaves,
Themselves at peaking beauty,
To watch upward as others launch.
With a breeze they flutter
But in wind they fly;
Swirling in yellow, orange and red
Swarming my squinting eyes,
Surrounded as I feel another
Autumn creep deep inside.
