October by @jcstaff_ , Sept. 2020
Green leaves, givers of oxygen,
begin to change
colours transform to velvety rusts,
golds, auburns, maroons;
colours of dying.
Though there is exquisite beauty
in their death.
Some cling to their last known resting place,
trembling, quivering in their final spot,
slight undulations with breeze’s breath.
Until they can hold on no longer,
liberated, they dance in a gust,
spinning, spiralling in air,
skittering to earth
in sun, warm and syrup-like.
This brings delight for children,
the dying swan song of the leaves.
The death of summer in the air.
Now, it rains. Dark autumn days,
the leaves blacken, colours stolen.
Plastered on the ground,
too heavy to fly free any longer.
Mildewing and losing their crisp voices,
as decomposition silences them,
robbing them of their elegant beauty.
They settle in the soil to rest, and wait,
to begin their next journey.