Memories of three feet tall
And tattered hand-me-downs
Of dreams beneath the back-door porch
In leaves of gold and brown.
Shades of autumn fill the air
And blanket all around.
Then with the frost and chilly wind
The bed too soon swept and bare,
Redressed in white the season ends
With snow and frigid air.
(Note: Leaves gathered from trees pictured in my earlier posts about autumn)