They taunt me and haunt me,

On a wild windy day,

They come at me in swirls,

I chase them like squirrels,

They flutter and sputter,

They flip and they dip,

To capture is rapture,

To lose is the blues,

But only for a moment,

For a new breeze is blowing,

I wonder as they fly by,

With so much life surely,

They have little hearts and souls,

To go with tiny feet and wings,

Autumn leaves,

Playful orphans,

On a warm winter’s day.