Leaves Piled high

Leaves fall
and we collect them all,
to swim in their great beauty.
Piled high,
we jump, pretend to fly,
in hopes they will break our fall.
We reek havoc on our pile,
then rake them up again.
Steal some leaves from neighboring yards
and make the pile twice as tall.
Run and jump and play,
tumble through leaves all day.
Upon night fall,
our mothers call,
our noses running red.
Our piles now are but dust,
a fine silt embedded in our heads.
Now dinner, bath, and bed.