Fall colors were beautiful this year. But as the season cycles, the color has drained away. Now another phase of autumn sets in. It makes me think of the other poem I wrote a couple of years ago in honor of that turning. At the risk of boring some who read it before, I re-post it now.

A storm came through last night and many leaves came down. The woods opened up almost as if a switch had been thrown, and the season changed from a brilliant fall to the beginnings of winter, and cold weather can only be around the corner.




Pastel’s zenith found itself, days gone by,
And splashed the woods with hickory yellow,
Rustic crimson ate the chlorophyll dye,
Sugar maples lit raspberry mellow.

Now hued leaves turn overnight brown,
They grasp to twig homes like bird claws,
But rain sprinkles gravity, pulling down,
And little zephyr twists are final straws.

Nine-month stems break weakened clasp,
Crispy curls float toward winter station,
Softly click as at bare limbs they grasp,
Desperate to avoid predestination.

In sporadic flocks they gather, descend
To whirl about, collide, one another,
From the full treetops their way wend,
Toward feet of sleeping mother.

Spiral down hushed helix, down,
Softly whisper swan song dying,
Settle into carpet, siblings around,
For precious sunlight not now vying,

For rustling rest ‘til bacteria, mold
Convert substance to topsoil loam,
Their mother, other flora fold —
Nutrients for a new leaf’s home.

This mighty secret the leaves all know,
Life recycles in the course of time,
November’s quiet whispers, so low —
Immortality song sublime!

© 2005 R. Leland Waldrip