The first leaf
Has fallen, and lies
In colourful splendour
On its own, in the pathway.
Yet another season is upon us;
So do the days go on
Heedless of human need, or emotion.
The Earth tilts away from the Sun.
And then towards it.
We are budding leaves, we spring forth
In green. We show other colours.
We then turn sere, and fall
To be covered, and erased from memory
By the first snow.
We return to the earth whence we took shape
And await another spring, to appear again.