Hands of leaves

Another Oak October
is soon to pass
but not before
I hear the calling
of my documentary tree
With brown leaves
and venation patterns
Veins so akin
like my ancestors hands
resembling the shade
of time evolved skin
as I walk by these
brown hands of leaves
being pulled by
Autumn breath
in a hurry to follow
my destination
A melody of leaves
form a cape
behind me
careful not to
touch ground
not yet
This family of strangers
ready to catch
me if I stumble
not letting
me tumble
Ready to slip
into my hand
and pull me
towards a smarter
wiser path
Mimicking the
sound of
clapping hands
behind and
beside me
pointing and all the
while knowing
These brown leaves
of hands also
like clocks
reminding me
we only are
here for so long
before we wither
and the ground
decides to drink us in