Frieda Risvold


Leaves


I swept a mess of leaves
clear off the deck and steps.
A gust wind came up
and blew them back to me.
Then sheets of rain came down
and plastered leaves to wood
making such a mucky mess
I retreated to the house.
This game's no longer fun.
Let Mother Nature have her way.

Submitted: Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Topic of this poem: life


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