One leaf-
The first leaf-
Burgundy,
Tinged with amber
And gold,
Blows from
An oak tree
In the woods.
Others
Follow suit,
Flying in clusters
From
That tree
And many more.
Soon,
One leaf-
The first leaf-
Shall be submerged
By every leaf
In the woods.
None
Shall know
That it was
The first leaf,
Tinged with amber
And gold.
It will lie there.
Feet will crunch
Upon
The frost-coated leaves,
Not realising
That one leaf-
The first leaf-
Made that crunch.
Unseen,
It remains there,
No longer
Tinged with amber
And gold,
But brown
And dead.
