The Mockery of Falling Leaves

Their rustling skirts 
Had quieted
Wherein before
They’d rioted
Across the 
Concrete drive

There I’d done it
Seized the chance
After the wind 
Had ceased its dance
Across the
Concrete drive

I’d applied some
Wind of my own
A regular
Hand held cyclone
Across the
Concrete drive

Now perfectly
Still and pristine
One might adjudge
“To the bone clean”
Across the
Concrete drive

But one need only
Turn his back
There’ll be swirling 
Leaves of no lack
Across the
Concrete drive

Drifting down with a
Clattering crackle
Triumphing o’er me
With a soft cackle
Filling the
Concrete drive.



Driveway Tea

Driveway Tea

The trees have turned their coats
From green to crimson gold.
And soon like careless teens
Will drop them on the floor
And there they will lie
While I them spy
Safe and dry indoors

At this turn of seasons
Deciduous lesions
Steep the seeping rain
Into a spot
Of driveway tea

This cold brew
A fusion of leaf
And rain and dew
A concoction
Sans relief
Leaves a stain
Beyond belief

But for now
I let it be
For I must wait
Till turn of spring
To expunge the dregs
Of driveway tea.