Munday on Monday: Autumn taunt

The leaves come down; my look is gaunt;

The trees begin their autumn taunt

As canopy they slowly doff;

At sight of paper bags, they scoff.

They fear no implement nor rake;

Their own sweet time they like to take.

The maple sneers; the sycamore

Will drop a bunch, then drop some more.

Supply of leaves they tend to wreak

Is infinite (at least, this week.)

I’ll keep the yard just as it’s been;

The leaves are winning — yet again.

This story was originally published October 18, 2015 at 1:00 PM.