The Falling Leaves

Autumn falls gently
crimson to gold
leaves drift to blanket the earth
like a mother’s loving touch
tucking her child in
for winter’s sleepy approach

the barren tree branches
like long brown fingers
reach to the heavens
soaking in the last heated rays
grateful for the glory that was summer
and birds silent now save their songs

as the earth settles into itself
safe and warm to wait
in peaceful acceptance
of what is

© Patricia Petro

Used with permission