The Burning of the Leaves

Late fall
when the first snows have already touched ground
but evaporated within days,
the neighbors and I
perform a suburban ritual:
gathering of the leaves.
Some with their riding mowers.
Others with blowers blasting air.
Me with my trusty rake and work gloves
gathering mostly brown,
but also a spattering of colored fallen ones,
to large piles
for bagging and carting off
to some not so distant land fill.
I do this even as from backyards
across the street
the gray smoke thickens
from the burning foliage
reminding me
of youthful autumns riding a bicycle
up and down sidewalk'd streets
daring one another
who could pedal through
the densest smoke screen.
Asthma be damned.

I know that it contributes
to global warming
and hurts sensitive children's lungs,
but on days like these
I still savor the scent and sight of
the burning of the leaves.