My second favorite time of the year. Looie and I go walking.
The sun shines bright and it is raining leaves.
We walk down our driveway on a thick, cushiony pad of golden river birch leaves.
Someone at the park rakes the oak leaves into a pile and the kids jump in them.
Looie wants to join in
So I let him.
He emerges jubilant with a beard of leaves on his chin hairs.
Maybe it’s his second favorite time of the year, too.
Though the leaves flutter down like floating butterflies, their job is far from done.
Now they provide cozy blankets for spring bulbs,
And cover the ground with a wealth of nutrition.
(Is this a poem?)
Tip: Mulch. Don’t rake.