Dancing with leaves adrift in a whirl;
A colorful romance of yellow and red!
Falling in time to how each one would curl;
As the scent of the air filled my head!
The wind now whistles and sings with the trees;
While owls give a hoot as time moves so quickly!
I too drift in thought to what might hurt or please;
The ground shows root, as underbrush grows thickly!
Just look at what you have besides a complaint;
Rivers flow wildly on request!
And these aren’t just colorful splashes of paint;
But a place where one’s soul comes to rest!
In a celebration of the most wondrous life;
Is how the forest chose to die!
Nothing but beauty replaces it’s strife;
Though the wind blows coldly on by!