Autumn is arriving in its dying.
Autumn is arriving, in its dying,
The vibrant leaves no longer trying
To hold onto the twisted branches,
Vast yellows and reds, fall in avalanches.
There is beauty in this brightful act,
Nature showing us the way it can interact,
And make the faded grass, underneath,
Be shrouded in colour, leaves like a sheet.
There is a certain art in the trees lament,
The broken branches dead, but content
And the subtle changes we long to see,
Are now here today, in its entirety.
Some don't notice this change and walk on by,
Heads at the floor instead of the sky
And these towering stalks, graceful and old,
Show us their weakness as the beauty unfolds.
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