Where the Leaves Go
I look out and wonder where the leaves go
Not those that are raked, the ones the wind blows.
Into the forest to die in dark decay
Providing the soil for the new leaves in May.
I watch as they fall from out of the tree.
For one brief moment they float down free.
The wind picks up and I hear a rustling sound,
Suddenly there are no leaves to be found.
Haunting shadows from lifeless trees,
The coming of winter and its cold freeze.
Soon they will sparkle when covered in snow.
Living but sleeping as the howling wind blows.
As autumn is ending I dream of spring,
The return to life and the green leaves it brings.
So much beauty that the birds have to sing,
Where the leaves go is like a renewal thing…
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