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Soap Box Poets

Ballet of the Leaves
by Sue Kugler

As the wind blew the leaves
Across the street
It sounded like little feet
And as they would meet
They’d prance
And do a tap dance

Sometimes it was a ballet
And then, Ole!
And then sort of sachet
Even some hard rock
That would stop a clock

The wind stopped
They dropped
All together
They changed with the weather

As they danced across the stage
They were all the same age
All looked like clones
As the wind did moan

When they got to the other side
The wind gave them a ride
This time across the land
The sight was grand!

The wind was the choreographer
While I was the photographer
Who captured the scene
On my movie screen

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