Whispering Leaves
Autumn brings leaves in multifarious hues,
Time's flow quickly readies us for winter's blow.
Fun days on our patios will soon turn to blues,
As it takes its leisure neath a blanket of snow.
The Sycamores have shed like some molting dog,
And each Crape Myrtle is dressed a yellowish red.
The huge Hackberry resembles an old upright log,
Now, too soon our days may be filled with dread.
The Hibiscuses are a gathering of pithy stalks,
Where once dinner plate size red flowers hung.
Now no cars come, stop and give strange gawks,
But things will be normal once spring has sprung.
Fallen leaves unmistakably are whispering to me,
Dancing at my feet they swirl along the ground.
As if they can't decide where they're supposed to be,
Each movement choreographed to whispering sound.
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