Three Wanderers

Through the golden garden,
the old woman trails easily after
the flaxen-haired toddler—
content to let him find his own way.

Oblivious of her careful efforts,
the smaller wanderer quietly gathers
the detritus of dead leaves, sticks
and stones as casual treasure
offered to his appreciative protector
while she promises the watchful gardener
to replace all his disturbed stones
to their original duty.

The little collector has not
yet learned the desperate
importance of the way things are
and is free to plunder—
borrowing and rearranging
garden borders without malice.

Warm sun shines softly out
of the deep blue afternoon
into the yellow leaves.
They fall singly and in pairs,
silently dancing earthward
from unseen branches high above.

The platinum-headed boy
cares nothing for the gold.
He clutches a dry brown leaf
in equal wonder to the
freshly fallen yellow treasures.

The gardener and the old
woman know the difference
but still smile in wonder of
the gifts and losses of autumn.