Auburn, golden, crimson
Cut the air as they sweep down to the soil.
They build up in heaps and wait to be carried away by the current of the air.
The trees liberate and abandon foliage as they watch them fly everywhere.
The grass opens up to hold them and keep them safe.
They crunch, crack, and sway in the climate.
A beautiful fall day and I am captivated by the splendor of it all.
Chilling breezes tap my face and follow me tracing my path.
I sit and stare as my back yard gets smothered in the deepness of this day.
Beauty grace, nothing to more to say
Than what a fall day,
And what more is there to see than leaves.