Maple Trail Stroll

(hummmm) Amber leaves across the gravel path

Two wet noses leading out ahead

Morning breath turns into quiet steam

Golden branches hanging overhead

Leashes slackening with every stride

And we don't have anywhere to be

Just russet woods and old red pines

Chasing squirrels up through the birch trees Taking our sweet time

(taking our sweet time)

Paws crunching over fallen oak

Stopping at the muddy timber bend

You turn around to see if I'm still there

My most loyal, easy-hearted friend

Wool collar buttoned against the breeze

And we don't have anywhere to be

Just russet woods and old red pines

Chasing squirrels up through the birch trees Taking our sweet time

(yeah, taking our time)

The afternoon turns softly cold

The fields are glowing copper and gold

Heading home along the ridge line

Good dogs, slow day (hummmm)