Family, poetry, Travel

Leaf Storm

Leaf storm
Leaf storm

On my first couple of days in Colorado, in a suburb outside Denver, I experienced the pleasure of a leaf storm from the Maples, Sycamores , and Gingko Biloba trees around my kids neighborhood. About twelve years ago, I had a similar experience in Franconia, New Hampshire. I was lost in the experience and my memory blurs yellow and umber hues. This time I stood in the swirl of colors, breathing in the subtle scents of bark, dew, and firewood smoke.

My son had to remind me that I was in the center of the parking lot of his apartment, and a car just drove into the complex. I took a deep breath, entered his car and searched in my purse for something to write with and a piece of paper. I found my pen and the back of his college tuition bill where I released my breath and words onto paper.

Leaf Storm

Leaf storm in the park
Leaf storm in the park

It’s raining leaves,

russet, gold, burnt orange

snap, crackle, pop

like Rice Krispies

on cold black asphalt,

tumbling crazily

likes lemmings on the way

to a sure death

from a wayward boot

an uncaring rubber tire

a steel rake.

With luck

a flock of children,

a wayward dog

dives into a heap of leaf fire,

red and gold angel wings,

shrieks of joy,

releasing autumn

into memory,


Road Between Autumn Trees
Road Between Autumn Trees


I love Colorado.