Dancing Leaves
By Colum McCrudden
Dancing leaves ripped from the trees.
At the mercy of an autumn "breeze".
Tossing and turning,every which way.
Like little birds,they skip and play.
A rush of air,a howling wind.
Of they go,all in a spin.
Helter Skelter,golden brown.
As they slowly settle on the ground.
Whistling,rustling,ill at ease.
I sit and watch the dancing leaves.
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