- Leaves are turning brown, red and yellow, too,
- Falling from their perch, exiting from view,
- Touch upon the soil, lie without a sound,
- Through the rain and snow, turn into the ground.
- Flakes depart the clouds, icy arms extend,
- Float through quiet air, silently descend.
- Land on leaf and blade or the city street.
- Final moment now, melt in mild heat.
Support this story
- 191 people sent me a one-time donation.
- 203 people send me a donation every month.
- 323 people receive my monthly newsletter.