Little stout bodies’ standing----
hands and noses pressed against the steamed glass,
watching the trees shedding their leaves
Standing there waiting----
Their matching rain boots,
hoods covering their heads
Ready to go out to play,
in the storm of autumn colors
But they were left waiting,
for their father
Loud footsteps were heard,
a familiar face was seen
Jumping up and down hugging each other so tight
His finger clasped on each side,
by his daughters hands
Looking up at him their eyes smiled
Spending a day with their father,
was all that mattered most