Dance of the Falling Leaves

At end of path, ‘mid autumn leaves
Of crimson, gold and amber bright,
There lies a gorge, where waters deep
Cascade o’er rock in roaring might.

As downward plunges river white
To pool beneath the stony edge,
A wisp of breeze takes up in flight
The leaves which fell o’er rocky ledge.

Along the windy cusp they dance,
As pixies do in moonlit glade,
And catch the sunlight’s gleam; entranced
The trav’ler watches from the shade.

Far up they waft, in shimm’ring lay,
They bow and curtsy to and fro,
And ‘round they circle, all the day,
While nature, watching, takes repose.

Photo taken at Burgess Falls, TN