Connecting Singles^® Poetry Connect with Poetry

Returning leaves

I had bagged but one of 4 or 5 leafy
drummonds of palletted tree droppings
Working hurriedly to beat winters
blanketing of white capped stoppings
My son and I were both feeling quite
tired to the point of humdrum
And would work til dark before we could
go in and finally have some fun

My son raked a high hill of leaves,
went back and scratched some more for a while
I looked up and saw a dusty minifunnel cloud
head in from the road in style
I saw it heading directly for our leaves
and could but innocently just smile
The intruder lifted them like some huge
kitchen gadget and tossed them with gile.

It then set the leaves gently down about
where they originally were laid
My son looking astounded at what
little progress we had made
Tossed the raked,sat down,looked up and
said something about wanting to go in
Our gazes met and at that instance all
the work was worth that shared chagrin

Posted: Mon Oct 5, 2009 10:52 PM CST