Once More

Just one more time,

I will gather

the fallen leaves

into a pile,

and when the wind

disperses them

across the yard,

I will shiver

in the still air,

and remember

my daily vow,

“let the leaves lie,

the wind will strew

them where it may.”

But the air chills,

the fall breeze taunts,

dancing coppers,

dazzling yellows,

dizzying reds,

and one more time,

to spite the wind,

I rake the leaves

and swear a vow,

this one last time.