Living now in a place
where, in autumn most
leaves stay put
clinging to their branches
without pretense
never having the
decency to abandon their
vibrant green for
appropriate, earthy hues
A few adhere to my more
familiar, season-bound
tradition, true natural order
small in numbers
generally unnoticed
It takes keen effort to
scrounge enough of a
collection for
traditionally crunchy walk
Which is cheating
The jumpable, enjoyably
scratchy, towering orange,
brown, red, yellow leaf piles
I crave are hopeless here
my native Midwest seems
further away in fall than
during the absence of winter’s
winter’s snowy blankets,
frosty windows
for I know full well
the curative, redemptive
potential of a fall
leaf pile on a man’s soul
– Mark L. Lucker
© 2017
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd
Ponderable polemics, poetic 