Dancing Leaves

The scurry of leaves with wind always reminded me of a dance.

Week Nine: free verse about dance to be posted directly into the forum.
(Weeks Seven And Ten were direct posts too:7 Items with Swan in the title/ 10 items with Lords/Frogs in the title respectively)



         Titian rules the world come October,
         as sap thickens and slows, the leaves metamorphose
         through shades of russet and gold and sere yellow
         finally drying to limp brown and dying.
         In their last moments of glory, a last fling
         of colour before winter shrouds them with her frosted cloak,
         they dance in ecstasy on the tree limbs as the fierce
         winds whip their frail bodies in a farewell frenzy.
         They leap in bouts of graceful turns and twists and then slowly tire,
         to hang limp in one last despairing moment of parting.
         Then they pirouette down to make a splendid bright mosaic
         at the feet of trees now bereft and bare. They scurry upwards
         in one final dance as the rake chases them to their end,
         blazing bright as flames flicker in promise of next year’s performance.