Leaves

By Elsie N. Brady

How silently they tumble down

And come to rest upon the ground

To lay a carpet, rich and rare,

Beneath the trees without a care,

Content to sleep, their work well done,

Colors gleaming in the sun.

At other times, they wildly fly

Until they nearly reach the sky.

Twisting, turning through the air

Till all the trees stand stark and bare.

Exhausted, drop to earth below

To wait, like children, for the snow.

The time has come for me to migrate south.  I arrived here hungry, seeking sustenance.  I had gracious hosts, feasting on the most delectable array of colors offered.  My appetite was enormous for sure, gorging every day as I just couldn't get enough... but still they served.  I'd continue to consume, but the dishes are now being cleared.  I'm satisfied though, as I have a thick layer of insulation to carry me forward, well into winter. Before I go, here is a look back at the gift basket I've been given, satisfying all those years of anticipation.

New Hampshire

Maine

.  

Vermont

Nature's fruit salad

.

Pennsylvania

New York

.

Six more, and that makes 55.  Check!
...and now onto one arm push-ups.  Is that even possible?