Dance In the Mist
Sister Autumn takes a gusty breath,
And blows the leaves out of her grassy palm.
Brother winter is on his way,
Ready to snow on this blustery day.
The Oak and the Beech trees wave goodbye,
The last of their leaves, finally fly.
Auburn and golden leaves swirl and they twist,
Performing their final, dance in the mist.
The last days of Autumn, and in with the snow,
Reach for the ground, the final leaves go.
Copyright © Madisyn Collier | Year Posted 2009
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