a repost

The days are getting shorter, and the nights are turning cold,
The autumn leaves are brilliant, all orange and red and gold.
They together are a masterpiece, in this tree so big and tall,
But now the show is over, and the leaves begin to fall.

One by one they drift away, and they tumble to the ground,
Floating to their destination, like they should without a sound.
Except for that one golden leaf, and a prideful leaf was he,
He said, “ I don’t have to go, I’m staying on the tree”

He held tight onto his branch, as he watched the others fall,
He laughed as they fell past him, he was the toughest after all.
The other leaves were helping one another as they fell,
Dislodging others on the way, a trick they knew so well.

The leaves had formed a multicolored carpet on the ground,
All cozy there together in this rest full place they found.
The prideful leaf was smiling, gazing down upon this site,
But all at once it dawned on him, and his pride turned into fright.

The prideful leaf was now alone, in the top of this old tree,
The other leaves had tried, but he refused to be knocked free.
Now he sadly looks down on them, with them he wants to be,
How lonely it must be to be the last leaf on the tree.

© Jack Roberts – October 2, 2002