The Back Yard

Sunday, October 12, 2003


How silently they tumble down
And come to rest upon the ground
To lay a carpet, rich and rare,
Beneath the trees without a care,
Content to sleep, their work well done,
Colors gleaming in the sun.

At other times, they wildly fly
Until they nearly reach the sky.
Twisting, turning through the air
Till all the trees stand stark and bare.
Exhausted, drop to earth below
To wait, like children, for the snow.

Elsie N. Brady


  1. What! Changing the appearance of your page again. Looks pretty good, very uncluttered.

  2. Yeah, change can be good!!

    Actually I've got enough of a creative streak in me that it's hard to leave well enough alone.

    Add to that the personality of a perfectionist and, well, change happens, but it usually looks good.


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