It’s leaves twirl and move in their contemporary dances,
the wind leading them in a flying fox trot,
though their dance is cut short as the blearing sun advances.

The thin pale body,
holding them captive from joining the wind that sweeps them away as they fought,
it’s leaves twirl and move in their contemporary dances.

Cotton floats through the air,
sure signs of the summer’s hot,
though their dance is cut short as the blearing sun advances.

the branches reach,
yearning for the bright blue sky stretching off into the unknown and untaught,
it’s leaves twirl and move in their contemporary dances.

snow melts at the feet of the tree,
the green grass sprouts sway in the breeze that the spring brought,
though their dance is cut short as the blearing sun advances.

Summer had come,
destroying what the sweet wind forgot,
It’s leaves twirled and moved in their contemporary dances,
though their dance had been cut short as the blearing sun advanced.