In a never ending yellow cycle ....

something i wrote in fall

As I sit here on this stony bench,

I look up and can't stop admiring,

how the sun shines upon the yellow leaves

of the old threes.

One by one they fall,

never again to go back home,

never again to feel the warmth

of a supporting touch.

They fall lonely and withered.

Their time has come up

and now while in the air

they grasp to the last drops of light.

But they do not struggle.

Their fate is written and they accept it.

In time they will lose everything 

and turn simply into dust.

This fills me with sadness.

Such beauty wasted away.

No one will know how would it feel

when you fall to the ground and be left there to rot.

Of course after the White Lady,

new seeds of life will be born.

A new beauty will replace the old 

and in time all will repeat ...

  ...... in a never ending yellow cycle.