October:
birch leaves flutter down,
gold coins from the sky.

With pink cheeks
and red nose,
I comb earth’s grassy mane

Maples sway,
dangling rubies
in the sun.

Golden flakes fall
like oak crisps:
our daughter’s hazel eyes.

A rush,
and then,
a rain of dry leaves.

An oak leaf
twirls through
sapphire sky.

Late afternoon:
cool wine, a
strong slant of light.

End over end,
a toasted leaf
tumbles.

Prongs scrape,
scour,
scratch the earth’s back.

Crisp breath
and crunching feet,
I rake piles.

This is a revision of “Haiku from the leaf pile” (originally published October 23, 2012) in homage to my favorite haiku poet, Basho.  Since many of you were probably raking this weekend, I thought you might enjoy this updated version, now with photographs.