The last leaf the tree holds on to
The last sign of dear life
Brown crisp and about to be lost,
The bare barks in winter cry.
Roads laid down with fallen ones,
Like a carpet all brown
Making music under your feet;
The last one twitches in the breeze.
A sudden gust of wind blows
Teaching the tree to finally let go
Of what was never his.
Slow and delicate, the last sign of fall
Welcomes winter with a free fall.
~ Suranya
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