Walking Leaves

by Elise   Jan 1, 2007


They skitter, scoot, and scurry by as I watch in amazement and say hi.

They dance in the wind as if putting on a show.

The orange and browns mix and flow.

Skip, slip, then stop at a hault
softly and slowly they tiptoe away
closing the curtains and leaving the stage.

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  • 17 years ago

    by Tom Swart

    I don't kno why people have voted so low on this poem of yours. I rate it pretty high myself as I understand your thoughts. I have often thought of leaves this way, each with a mind of their own playing just for me. Bravo