Autumn

 

Brown, shrivelled leaves litter the floor

 like dead dreams of a forgotten youth.

An unwanted reminder of maturation:

the end of summer;

the end of happiness;

the end of life.

 

The hopeful ones still cling to the branches,

but they look out of place now.

We are just waiting for them to loose their grip

and come fluttering down to join their dead brothers.

As they settle, sorrow will settle in us.

But soon they will be lost underfoot and we can progress on.

Again.