The colors of autumn

Gathering Leaves

(an Autumn poem by ~ Robert Frost)

Spades take up leaves

No better than spoons,

And bags full of leaves

Are light as balloons.

I make a great noise

Of rustling all day

Like rabbit and deer

Running away.

But the mountains I raise

Elude my embrace,

Flowing over my arms

And into my face.

I may load and unload

Again and again

Till I fill the whole shed,

And what have I then?

Next to nothing for weight,

And since they grew duller

From contact with earth,

Next to nothing for color.

Next to nothing for use.

But a crop is a crop,

And who's to say where

The harvest shall stop?

Looking out my bedroom window,
this is what I see.

The leaves are almost off the tree across the street. The field of corn to its right is turning a lovely shade of gold as it nears harvesting time. Everything else is still green from the extended summer weather we've been blessed with. It's such a colorful and lovely time of year, a time to slow down the pace of life and prepare for winter to arrive.