October Saturday

Photo courtesy of PublicDomainPictures.net

October Saturday

All the leaves have turned to cornflakes.
It looks as if some giant's baby brother
had tipped the box
and scattered them upon our lawn --
millions and millions of cornflakes --
crunching, crunching under our feet.
When the wind blows,
they rattle against each other,
nervously chattering.

We rake them into piles --
Dad and I.
Piles and piles of cornflakes!
A breakfast for a whole family of giants!
We do not talk much as we rake --
a word here --
a word there.
The leaves are never silent.

Inside the house my mother is packing
short sleeved shirts and faded bathing suits --
rubber clogs and flippers --
in a box marked SUMMER

We are raking,
Dad and I.
Raking, raking.
The sky is blue, then orange, then gray.
My arms are tired.
I am dreaming of the box marked SUMMER.

~ Bobbi Katz

I love the image of the leaves as cornflakes, spilled by a giant!  I remember many autumn days when I was young, raking and raking, just like in this poem.  (We don't get many leaves in the yard at our current home, thank goodness.)  My arms would get tired, too.  I don't know that I dreamed of summer while doing it, but I might have dreamed of winter and Christmas.  Nowadays I try to just enjoy whichever season I'm in -- though it's much easier to appreciate autumn now that I don't have to rake! :)