Autumn Flight

Among the cool, crisp air
A red shape emerges
In the green bushy brilliance,
Is a single autumn leaf.

I was expecting emerald,
But one single ruby, a leaf,
Had been deteriorating them
With every forgotten second.

Tornadoes of leaves swirling around
Calling to the death of summer.

The leaves take on a devilish color,
Soft, green petal quickly turn rigid.

I'm not sure which I like more:
The dead of night,
Or the noon of day;
The end of summer celebration,
Or the beginning of the autumn festival.

Catching my peripheral
Is a paradox of colors.
In my mind,
It's far beyond the imagination.

The weakness of knowing what lies inside a crunchy leaf pile,
Why do I no longer have the innocence of a child?
No longer do I enjoy romping among the rugged bodies.
I only see but a mass of jittering creatures.

Life can be reconciled in a single glace,
I only know to step upon them
As the leaves float to the ground.

You will soon be buried
Beneath cool, glistening
Crystal blankets.

Mentioned in conversation,
A leaf is hardly there,
So much compassion,
Change of mood and theme,
There is no recognition for
The beloved leaf.

Drifting past him,
He noticed a leaf.
Flying backwards,
Looking as if he'd just seen a ghost.
He had mistaken an autumn leaf
For fire.

The tree is bare,
The leaves must be falling.

I was awakened in the middle of autumn,
A single leaf fell upon me,
And nestled in my pocket,
Giving me content
Until the long winter came.