Autumn Fantasy

Leaves blew against

houses and cars,

mounding burnt orange,

umber, red, and copper leaves,

mulching shrubs,

burying flower beds

and clogging gutters.

With gusty winds

my rake is for naught.

It seems like yesterday

my childhood friends and I

played house in the yard,

raked leaves into walls--

bedroom walls, living room walls,

garage walls that held

imaginary luxury cars;

we played tag and danced in

blueprints of castles

with glorious ballrooms

opening onto patios and porticos.

In my flannel-lined jeans

and plaid shirt, I waltzed

with my friends,

imaginary knights and dukes;

twirling past dusk

in the mansions of our minds.

After that last call for bed

we would roll in the leaves,

savoring the pungent earthiness,

then jump up and down

shaking the scratchy fibers free.

Later, bundled in bed,

the spicy scent

perfuming our hair

drafted the sweetest dreams.