So many leaves have turned over,
abandoning the cradle
where they were first awakened
by the soft caress of the morning breeze
against the remaining dew-
Earth’s nightly renewal,
where they were taught
the steps of the wind’s whispers
and danced against light’s refraction;
gently they’ve loosened their dependency,
letting go their hold on verdant hues
and have solemnly accepted
the less vibrant tones of winter,
inviting gravity to lead them.
So many breaths exhausted
to Earth’s persistent rotating,
to the sun drenched rising
of one more finite presence.