The Autumn Leaf

The bronzed and reddened leaf, swam slowly through the air,

Falling from the tree, that till autumn had held him there.

The little leaf fell slowly, careful not to crash,

And soon he landed on the water, making not a splash.

--

His corrugated tips, stretched slowly out from him,

Lapping up the sunshine, that winter soon would dim.

Slowly did the current tug, towards the bank he’d left,

Pushing him to safety, so that he’d not be bereft.

--

He thanked the swimming current, politely as the day,

And crawled up on the bank, and tiredly there lay.

That pretty little leaf, so full of autumn red,

Then stared up at the clouds, lying as if dead.

--

Not to be so taken, he merely there did sleep,

But his quiet countenance, fooled many who did weep.

They cried not only just for him, he the little leaf,

But also for the autumn, who he did lay beneath.

--

Unworried was the leaf, he knew he would be back,

When springtime lit the world, with its fertile little knack.

So he but lay there still, just watching well the sky,

Living his ‘last’ days, in a merry lullaby.