JULIE ANN STEVENS

There is a point in time when the color peaks and the leaves take to the wind.

Airborne, they catch my eyes and make them dance.

I stand still and my mind twirls.  Ahhhh, this is where the word ‘flutter’ came from.

I flit like a butterfly — gray sky dripping gold in every direction — yards of lawns lavished gold.

The scene glows with possibilities.

Yes, this is a slice of time — a gold carpet moment.

Before the colors fade and crunch beneath my feet, mine for the takin.