as time drops

the high up
mountains
begin to feel
the firstness
of the change,
those
autumn days
flow downward,

leaves, trickling
slow at first,
beginning
to gather
momentum,
soon the tide
of dropped
leaves swell
into a beautiful
explosion,

none exempt
from
the cascading
overflow,
covering city
and countryside
the same,
golds, reds
and amber
wash pass,

the breeze
collects
it's toll,
the leaves
will stand, dance
like
little puppets,
once concluded,
accolades
and kisses
close
out the show.