Leaning on the counter
I looked below the curtain
Out the window
To see the wind blowing
And the last few leaves flowing
Up the street
They would gently glide
Off the pavement
And the curbside
Working there way
To the top of the hill
Where they inevitably will
Tangle in the dead broken
Summer grass we used to fill

Just before leaning up
Off my place of rest
I saw the first snow flake
Take the sky, take flight
And this is what gets me best
It didn’t float down
From above, or in the wings of a dove
It lifted off from between
The side yard stone, and a tone
Of a cold storm brewing
To the south of our sight
Where the sun provides light
Through the cracks in the trees
Where warm winds say goodbye
And welcome a chilling winter freeze

 
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