From flaming reds and yellows
to curled and dried up browns
All of Summer's glory
Chose my yard to find the ground.
Blowing, raking, piling high
Though daunting, I finally win.
Yet somehow, when the darkness falls
Leaves cover my yard again.
People who wait to rake until the end
'Till their trees bear leaves no more
Find all their leaves have blown, I think
To pile up outside my door...
Another week of work is done,
I could use relaxation time a lot
But looking at my yard again
I realize another weekend's shot...
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