Are the leaves around me.

Floating gently to the ground,

Yet still not browned.


Yellowed wrinkled fluff,

Oh, I’ve not nearly jumped enough!


Raked piles high,

Lawn once again lush.

But on the next morn’ my efforts are for nigh,

As again the yard is covered in crispy plush.


Nothing else so easily undone

Can only mean more fun.


Mounding higher piles,

Brings much brighter smiles.


Falling from the sky

Are my kids like leaves.

Their spirits soar high,

Enjoying the last of Autumn eves.