Deciduous a Mentor

With autumn's bracing breath, the green leaves fade, Their vibrant hues decay to muted gold. Trees weep, as the end of season foretold, Shedding their brown waste into green leaves frayed. Each leaf, once green, a memory fade made, Now tumbles, gliding down, to earth's dirt fold, Gathering to form autumn wreath consoled. With red, brown, orange colors, all displayed. Yet within this requiem, new hope lives, That spring will come, with flush of bloom and bud, For in new leaves, new life, rebirth abides. Being deciduous, fresh hope it gives, To lives shredded, weeping red drops of blood, With recycling, re-birthing as it guides.