I am a simple autumn leaf,
Steeped in beauty, deep in grief.
The faintness of a green remains,
But brown reveals a thousand pains
Brought on by winter’s icy dread.
And there, behold a vibrant red --
It lies when it proclaims a hue
To rival spring’s pellucid blue.
The yellow there beside it shows
Anticipation of the snows
That soon will crumble me to dirt,
Deep in slumber, done with hurt.
A day or two my colors sing,
The blowing words are sorrowing,
A bit alive, but feeling death,
This beauty is my final breath.
It's not much of a poem, but I felt I needed to write it quickly, before these days of mixed coloration are passed. (Like, tomorrow!)