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An Autumn Poem

Colors yellow, orange, and red flutter down,

Spinning, spinning, raining under branches that were once their homes.

Forgetting the bare, dark skeletons of the tree tops above,

Swaying, swaying, creating deep, crunchy, leafy
graveyards,

Leaving their beautiful mark on the ground.

In their quiet death the world discovers their lives.

The soft breath of the autumn breeze lifts them back to life again,

Weightless, dancing, dancing, flying, only to fall once more.

But graceful is their descent back to their resting places

Their fragile sight, their crisp, smell are reminders that all things change and die away,

And new things come another day;

Singing, singing, loving, living,

Life goes on even when life is gone.

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