Country Roads
by Leona M. House

There’s nothing like a walk in the Fall,
down country roads, her shoulders bearing old
Goldenrod tall, or stopping at Elder Berry bushes
covered in blue, laden with bunches of berries
full, or having four tow headed kids in line to
laugh and run, play around in the warm sun.

Or watching the cows getting their fill of fallen
apples up on the hill, or slipping over to the
Elder Berries, and having a snack there, too.

Or grabbing a handful of berries to chew, then
show your purple lips and teeth when through.
There’s nothing like a walk on a country road,

To kick a few loose stones up the road, to dig in
the cattail pond now dry; to smell the crisp cool
air and see the clear blue sky.

The sugar maples now changing color,
the brilliant reds, the rusty browns,
the golden oaks, the dirty browns.
Quaking Aspens now golden yellows while
Larch trees dropping their needles in Fall. No,
there is nothing like a walk in the Fall.

The last chicory blooming in blue,
LOOK OUT kids for the Burdock’s getting ready
to spill those ratty catchers over your clothes then
combing them out of my kids hair, the cat
coming home carrying a load of Burdock burrs in
her fur.

There’s nothing like taking a walk in the Fall,
a warm sun on the back of my neck, the kids’
sunny smiles, impish laughter they utter, to stop
by their frog pond and reminisce about gobs
of pollywogs and little red newts, no, there is
nothing like a walk in the Fall.