Remembering the days of old, when father raked the leaves of
Golden, yellow, brown and orange
Jumping into the huge crisp pile, I tossed them all about
As my father raked them on top of me
I would creep out from under the pile laughing.
With leaves hanging on my hair and clothing
What a wonderful season. What a wonderful reason
Just to play in the leaves.
Copyright 2013
All Rights Reserved
published in the Crawfordsville, Indiana newspaper
and book three of the IVY TECH Bloomington, Indiana literary magazine
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 3:30 PM UTC
Remembering the days of old, when father raked the leaves of
Golden, yellow, brown and orange
Jumping into the huge crisp pile, I tossed them all about
As my father raked them on top of me
I would creep out from under the pile laughing.
With leaves hanging on my hair and clothing
What a wonderful season. What a wonderful reason
Just to play in the leaves.
Copyright 2013
All Rights Reserved
published in the Crawfordsville, Indiana newspaper
and book three of the IVY TECH Bloomington, Indiana literary magazine
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