As we walked up the pathway,

a gust of wind caught some leaves

and sent them spinning into the air.

William covered his face like they might

scratch. Mrs Eames stood hulking in the

doorway. A fabulous aroma wafted into

our noses. Suddenly I realized I was

ravenous. Poor William was positively

salivating. Mrs Eames hurried us inside,

to get it hot. For a marvellous moment

all my grief was forgotten.

Author: Robert James Berry

Poet & Novelist

33 thoughts on “Leaves”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *