Drifting slowly and unsteadily from above
The dead leaves come alive at last,
Thanks to the icy winds that blow.
They twist, turn and swing before they land.
They make a thick blanket on the roads
That challenge the machines that run.
As you walk with care, lest you should trip,
Stop to see in glee the drifting leaves!
They continue to fall and settle until
They drive mortals to hoard the bounty.
These leaves mark a new beginning:
The season changes and makes way for the new.
Before they are one with the soil underneath,
They are crushed, swept and often burnt.
So, watch out, as they beautifully drift
And caress while you amble along under the canopy.
***
