A yearly intruder called Autumn <br />Stretches out and hovers above us all, <br />Sends down the fugitives from the trees, <br />On to the earth like dominos they fall. <br /> <br />The scattering fugitives of red and gold, <br />Through the cool, crisp air they whirled, <br />Bustling as far as the eyes can see, <br />Until on the ground they freely swirled. <br /> <br />Sadly, Nature's trees will become bare <br />Mid piles of fugitives so very deep <br />In the nip of the frosty Autumn air <br />When the intruder beckons the trees to sleep.<br /><br />Joseph T. Renaldi<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fugitives-from-the-trees/
