Autumn’s hues are bursting out everywhere now.
The ancient, stately maples are drenched in crimson,
the climbing vines wear deep red. All around me
yellow beech leaves shower down like coins tossed
as tokens of good fortune. Beneath my boots
fallen sycamore leaves crunch like cornflakes.
And along its side, a circus of color makes me stop
and laugh, its gaudiness looking as if someone
sent the kids out to play with a tin of paints,
wholly free of from rules and supervision.
It sure looked happy. And beautiful.
And I wore the smile it gave me all the way
to the end of the trail.