Another Textured Tuesday

The yellow leaves seemed to dance, 

swaying to the rhythm of the breeze. 

A final celebration of their summer 

before giving in to the coming winter.

I had to stand patiently, to watch them, 

waiting to take a picture of their dance, 

hoping they would pause just long enough,

bowing before they left their stage.

A Change In the Weather

Each fall, I make a point of walking by these bushes 

to see if the leaves are the correct color, and have arranged themselves 

into a pose that would make a nice picture. 

So far, this is as close as I've gotten.

Sometimes, the yellow leaves hang in the gray weather, 

like a solitary heart waiting for an absent lover until,

 too cold and dripping with rain like a single tear,

it drops away, it's hopes turned to winter.