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.