Autumns Pleasure

Clusters of leaves float aimlessly
on wisps of air unseen.
Arrays of colors,
gold, brown, red and
in-betweens.

Twirling, scurrying along,
rumbling on nearly winters ground,
Mingling with the air now chilled,
playing fall's delightful sounds.

All to soon, gone they will be
replaced by whiteness of the snow,
and in the mist of time to come
as in life's plan
flowers will begin to grow.