The maples of Broad Street were slumbering in bed,
They were dragging their feet as if gilded in lead.
They’d put off preparation until late in the season,
And kept snoozing their alarms for some quite unknown reason.
But the maples of Broad Street, to a tree, knew their duty.
The maples of Broad Street have (at last!) shared their beauty.
.
The maples of Broad Street have ceased to be tame,
The maples of Broad Street are shaking their manes.
They’re screaming out oranges, and roaring bright reds;
Up and down the street is colored, from our lawns to their heads.
The maples of Broad Street are a fiery glow.
And the spectacle on Broad Street continues to grow.
October 19, 2016
Flagstones 