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The swirling leaves descend on their journey;
Downward, upward and all around,
Spinning and flying, they surround,
Twisting and flying beneath shimmering clouds.
An ocean of orange, tan and red.
Leaves are soft and crunch like a baked loaf of bread.
Children running and laughing at the sound,
Leaves falling, dancing, hitting the ground.
Raise your hand and pull one from the sky,
It will bring you luck, I do not lie.
Look up and surely you will see,
An abstract of leaves, escaping the tree.
Crinkle, crackle, crispy leaves,
Trying to catch them within your sleeves.
Flying, floating, fluttering on,
Resting their bodies on your lawn.
The tint of orange in the world of Fall,
The entire earth is like a fireball.
Being eaten away by a sea of tree stars,
The lonely people are left to play their guitars.