Russet Leaves

65 0 0
                                    

When that old chestnut shed russet leaves 

And the sycamore golden brown, 

Though autumn chilled my reddened cheek 

And cold my fingers numbed, 

I took my Granddads homemade rake 

And set about the chore. 

Granddad watched from a rocking chair 

And when the job was done, 

He said, “Let’s not burn them yet a while, 

For the critters will make a home.” 

When that old chestnut shed russet leaves 

And the sycamore golden brown 

With tears of mourning on his cheek 

To his grief succumbed. 

My father bought a stiff wire rake. 

And set about the chore. 

No one watched from the rocking chair 

But when the job was done 

I said, “Don’t bag them up yet a while, 

For the critters will need a home.” 

When that old chestnut shed russet leaves 

And the sycamore golden brown 

From the havoc beetles reek 

They to death succumbed. 

The bark began to peel and flake 

Tree fellers had the chore. 

Alone I watched from rocking chair 

And when the trees were gone 

I left the leaves to lie a while

For the critters to use as home.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Nov 22, 2013 ⏰

Add this story to your Library to get notified about new parts!

Russet LeavesWhere stories live. Discover now