The Wind

I wrote this for a creative writing class I'm taking:

Summer turns to autumn,
Leaves begin to brown;
With a rush of branches
The wind comes dancing down.

She teases all the trees--they
Toss their haughty heads,
Dropping summer's raiments
Upon the grassy beds.

She races to retrieve them--
Gives chase across the lawn--
Twirling, spinning, whirling
Until her breath is gone.

Only for a moment:
She soon returns to play,
Chasing with the faded leaves
The fading year away.

Autumn turns to winter,
Golden turns to grey
I see the changing colors--but
I saw the wind today.