Why Not: Autumn’s Leaf
A clockwork sun began to climb the skies,
Predictable, a measured, metered rise.
The town awoke, a rhythmic, pulsing sound,
With every step on consecrated ground.
The mayor, proud, declared the day serene,
“A perfect order, a beautiful scene!”
The people smiled, a synchronized display,
And praised the structure of their perfect day.
A sudden gust, a whisper of the breeze,
Disturbed the dust beneath the ancient trees.
A single leaf, historic in its flight,
Ignored the rhythm, fought the civic right.
The crowd gasped, a collective, startled beat,
A flaw appeared upon their ordered street!
The mayor frowned, his perfect world askew,
A tiny wildness, something fresh and new.
“Restore the pace! Contain the rebel leaf!”
He cried in panic, drowning in his grief.
For in their perfect state, well understood,
All unexpected motion was not good.
The town, so free, yet captive to the chime,
Had lost their spontaneity to time.
Their life, a song with every note defined,
A perfect prison for the human mind.
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