When The Leaves All Fall

Two days ago the yellow leaves on the tree in the park were in all their glory, today they are all laying on the ground.
I believe that door has closed once again.

Not even in my dreams did they say goodbye.
They all fell within forty-eight hours and nobody needed to say they would, cause they could.

They will wither and shiver next to the river,
beneath the empty canopy of their bare branches,
until their beauty is blown away by the wind.

They will no more flaunt their symmetry to be perceived.
The veil has given consent again to eternities blank canvas.

They will then be buried or burned to ashes.
But yet through the shroud of our consciousness they still live.

Living, breathing and vibrant with no thought of dying, still in spring’s simplicity.