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The Rhythm Of The Season
Excited peals of gay laughter floated through the air
As the children jumped and rolled in the piles of raked leaves.
In the distance the farm machines toiled in the ripe fields;
Golden and yellow meadows stretched to the horizon.
Temptation beckoned as a gust of wind swirled and danced
Through the dry, fragrant leaves in their carefully heaped mounds.
Laughing aloud she twirled and fell backwards spread-eagled
In abandonment, scattering dignity and leaves
The sights and joyful sounds of happy children warmed her.
She lay on her back, watching a dropping leaf glide by
Then blew the bright leaf further, wishing it were her cares,
Feeling part of the innate rhythm of the season
