Dear neighbor,
I must confess, it was I who stole your leaves. Shirley, I came after dusk with a rake and blanket, and a wheelbarrow, the tools of the trade. I checked to see if you were around, but no, you left me to my silent task.
Just as was taking one of the last loads, Mike peered down the street from his front yard and thought to himself, “Hmm! That looks like Lonnie… and she’s stealing Shirley’s leaves!” He came by to assure me that he’d already called the cops. But I guess they had more important things to do. Mike stayed, still in his sock feet, to entertain me with stories of some recent food marvel he’s created, while I kept stealing leaves right underneath his nose.
Sue, Dave and I stole your leaves today. The city crews were out rounding up all the leaves from the sides of the streets. They gathered them in huge piles using large, carbon-spewing earth-moving equipment. I wonder how many of my tax dollars went to pay people to collect leaves that could have been mowed into lawns as mulch.
















































