Knocked down by harsh wind  Willow leaves could be a school  Of silver green fish.

Flower memories  Watering violet blooms   Holding grandma’s hand

There’s gold in them hills!  But it won’t last for long  Catch it while you can.

Marshy cattail home  Of veiled red-wing blackbird   song Echoes in dry reeds.

Just when you wonder  Where have all the colors gone?  Gold branches stand out.

What is that weird thing?  Cracked shells of brown fungus dust,  Nature’s mystery