Come the Fall

 

One by one they turn

Slowly brown, sound of paper.

Falling in slow spirals, riding their trails in the air

Coming to rest, isolated from the whole

But then seeing more follow

Their fate

Until, the whole

Becomes a

Shadow

Of it’s

Former                                          icy blasts the last leaf

Self                            voicing hollow sighs              to the ground

The wind rips through the branches                            It stands naked to the elements

                                                        Wishing for another spring.