Poem(slow 'em)

Autumn leaves
from the trees
fly through the air
like honey bees

then on the ground
making nary a sound
till along comes a shoe
that grinds and pounds

into a pile all the leaves go
and set aflame go up in smoke
and on her car the old woman finds
fresh soot that in cold air still winds

not a single speck
escapes the wondrous sight
of the lord God above
bringer of autumn delight

-aLeX