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Monday, October 27, 2008


How silently they tumble down
And come to rest upon the groundTo 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.
poem by Elsie Brady
photos by Kate' Lyons-Holestine


studioodd said...

beautiful autumn shots!!

Mo said...

Fall is a great time of the year - until you figure out you have to rake all those leaves! What happened to your profile? njc