Bright morning sunshine
Glares on the still falling leaves
And the rushing stream.
The top leaves tremble
As the boughs below them bow
In late Autumn wind.
Where did they come from--
Purple flowers on my porch
Sneaking up the rail?
Dancing on the road--
Shadows of the waving grass
As if alive.
Hoarseness of the wind
As it whispers on the forest;
Leaves scratch on the road.
Pathway of still leaves
Waiting for the wind to blow
Winds up the driveway.
Even the two cows
Assume classic proportions
In sun and shadows.
Myriad wrinkles
Etched fine by sun and shadows:
Dry leaf in the road.
All at once they burst--
These pregnant milkweed seed pods,
Sending forth their kin.
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