an online journal of student writing





Search for:




By Nora



They’re colored every color.

Orange , red, yellow

Everything but green.

One slowly breaks off from

A tree, its home.

I close my eyes and count.

1,2,3 ding.

It settles on my head.

I throw it in the air

And the wind makes it

Soar, up, higher, higher.

I turn a cartwheel, feel

Leaves crinkle under my hands

And I watch the colors whiz by

As I fly through the air.

I take in a deep breath when I fall.

I smell the wet grass, freshly cut

Like always, in fall.

The clouds roll away and the sun

Makes it hot, so I rest

In the leaves.