Burning Leaves Poem by Juan Olivarez

I raked some leaves upon the ground,
And made a pile most high.
Enjoying the musty smell, and crackling sound,
While I listened to their cry.

And then I lit a match to them,
And I thought I heard them sigh.
And again the crackling of the leaves and stems,
And the embers floating in the sky.

And I wondered somewhere, inside my head,
If dead leaves in red and gold,
Release their souls, when they are dead,
In Autumn fires, when it gets cold.

12/3/11 Alton Texas