Whose leaves these are? I think I know.
The tallest trees have made them so.
While lying here with questions queer,   
To watch as painted nature blows;
 

A timid rabbit slowly nears.
To stop and wonder with such fear.   
Beneath the ground and trees that shake,   
Why on Earth I'm lying here?
 

With twitching nose he's all a 'quake.   
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the whisk,   
Of dancing, leafy, winded rakes.
 

The air is cool, sharp, and brisk.
Solitude is now at risk.  
As rabbit scurries tisk, tisk, tisk.  
As rabbit scurries tisk, tisk, tisk.