Fall leaves, fall,

in your autumnal grey;

now you prepare for the black pall,

the naked winter days…

Seasons wrap up like chilly pedestrians;

each new morning closer to the close;

how sanguine seem your yellow surfaces,

as if kissed by the sunset’s own hues!

And like the dying in the final stages,

you reveal your beauty with new vigour –

no storms within, no desperate, surging rages –

one with the tide of time and life’s flowing river…

Fall leaves, fall,

pay your autumnal dues;

sleep comes to us all,

before we wake anew…

© Isha Garg