on autumn’s death

the leaves fell down, on me they rained,
through autumn dusk on this crisp day.
like red twirling dive bombers falling to earth,
prepared to be trampled and turned into dirt.
from beauty the colors they all go to brown,
from heights and bright majesty they die on the ground.
for a brief moment in time did this beauty exist,
and for nothing more than the knowing of this.

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