the wonderfully brown leaves
fall in a blissful array
of friendship and love,
more so from the music
that sings along and aloud.

i never cease to take
a keen eye on them,
foolish,
i may be for believing
in an existence
of more than just autumn leaves.

but the leaves know,
that they may falter and fail,
they would still bud
in a true tree -
green and new,
and they wouldn't
forget the heroes that
sacrificed their slots
just for them to endure.

autumn left.
but the leaves don't.