The flutters of fall

“One of the nicest beds I know
isn't a bed of soft white snow,
isn't a bed of cool green grass
after the noisy mowers pass,
it's a bed of yellow hay
making me itch for half a day—
but autumn leaves in a pile that high,
deep, and smelling like fall, and dry.
That's the bed where I like to lie
and watch the flutters of fall go by.”

—Aileen Fisher